Sadie and Lars: Where It All Began
by cooliochick5
Summary: Maybe you should start from the very beginning. Sadie and Lars weren't always friends. Well...they weren't much of anything to begin with, but, something had to change it. How did they become friends? And where does their friendship go from there?
1. Where It All Began

Another long day lead you to tuck in early today. You had been more or less ran ragged at your job of nine years, but that was nothing new.

"Lars, move over." You stretch your aching arms high above your head, shedding your jeans, dirtied from the day's work.

"Huh? Sadie? That you, babe?" Lars draws in a tired voice. He rolls over, casting a sleepy grin in your direction. That smile alone is enough to add a grin to your exhausted face.

"Yeah. I'm back." You rub your eyes, crawling in to your bed. Lars pulls the wool blankets up to cover both of you, then wraps his long arms around your waist.

"How was work at the Big Donut?" He asks, interlacing his fingers with your own. You give his hand a small squeeze, letting him know that you had quite a day to relay back to him.

"Boring as usual, Steven stopped by though."

"Oh?" Lars nuzzled the pillow behind your head, causing you to giggle.

"Go back to bed, hun-." Your sentence is cut off by soft whimpers down the hall.

"Baby's up." Lars yawns, sitting up in bed. You shiver a bit at the loss of warmth, but accept it.

"You got her this time?"

"Yeah, you sleep." Your husband places a small kiss to your temple before stretching, "Alright, Alright, Rose. I got ya." He leaves the room, off to tend to your infant daughter.

You roll onto your back, sleep just wasn't coming to you today. You often used your insomnia as an excuse to think about just how you got here. You lived in a small house by the beach with your caring husband and baby girl.

But, it wasn't always that way, no, not at all. It- well...maybe you should start from the very beginning.

* * *

You're thirteen years old, sitting on your favorite swing in the whole park. It's the end of the summer, so your jacket is zipped up, your hands shoved deep in your pockets to prevent the early autumn chill from turning your fingers numb. You huddle further in your coat as a breeze whips your hair around.

"Why does it have to get cold so fast?" You question no one in particular, leaning back in your swing. A second breeze opts you to push your hood up over your head, trying to revive the warmth in your ears.

"H-hey! Let me go!" Your numb ears pick up on a desperate plea. You look up, having to squint your eyes against the fading sun set.

"Just eat the dirt, loser." A deeper voice says. You stand, trying your hardest to see whats going on. You leave your swing, beginning a short pace across the park. Just beyond the slide is a boy on the ground, three older males stand around him.

"Eat the dirt!" One of the boys, a fifteen year old with long brown hair, aims a kick for the smaller boy's ribs. A cringe overtakes you as the foot makes contact.

"N-NO! THAT'S STUPID!" The boy has sand and dirt matted to his skinny face and rust brown hair.

"Just eat it!" The second boy laughs, stepping on the kid's head.

"Hey! Leave him alone!" You ball up your fists, stepping in front of the bullies. You add an aggravated scowl to the mix. Now, you weren't very tall, defiantly not for your age. You weren't the skinniest easier, so like most bullies, that was immediately what they picked up on first."

"What's a small, fat girl like you gonna do about it?" The third boy smirks, kneeling to your level.

"You'll be very sorry when you find out." You glare back at him.

"Oh, I'm so scared. Har har, baby boy's girlfriend's come to sa-."

"SHE ISN"T MY GIRLFRIEND! JUST LEAVE HER ALONE!" The red-head drags himself to his feet, standing between you and the bully now. He laughs again, his friends easily kick the male back down. You growl at the sudden attack, aiming your fist where ever it will land. The male gasps in anguish, clutching his now sore, ahem, crotch, sinking to the ground.

"Watch your back, kid!" His friends call as they help him back up, leading the injured boy off the black top.

"No! You watch your back!" You yell, feeling prideful. A groan from the ground beside you reminds you why you were here.

"Are you alright?" You drop to your knees, helping the red-head sit up. He coughs into his fist but nods.

"Y-yeah, Corey, Duke, and Devin always do that. They're just stupid." A pout forms at the boy's lips, but he immediately winces. You look up just in time to see blood seep from the corner of his lip.

"You're hurt!"

"I-I'll be fine."

"At least let me get you a band-aid. My house is just down the street."

The boy gives you an unsure look, but you give him no choice, helping him to his feet, "Come on, you're hurt."

It's a short walk back to your house, the boy taking a seat on the front porch as you run inside for the promised band-aid.

"Sadie, where have you been?" Your mom scolds as you retrieve the first aid kit.

"Sorry, mom, I need to help my new friend." You call, trotting back out into the chilly night. Much to your surprise, the boy is still waiting for you.

"Took you long enough." He snaps. You roll your eyes.

"Just hold still." You peel the backing off a band-aid, pressing it to his wound. He pouts again, looking away. You snatch up a washcloth and begin to dab the blood on his lip away.

"Look, I'm fine." He brushes your hand away, standing, "I need to go. Dad's gonna kill me if I'm home after dark."

"O-oh...okay...good night, then." You offer him a smile, packing up the first aid kit again.

"Thanks, er..."

"Sadie."

"Sadie...yeah, um...thanks." He shrugged, shoving his hands into his own hoodie pocket.

"Your welcome...uh...I'm sorry, I didn't get your name."

There's a pause before the boy answers. "Lars."

"Oh! Well...your welcome Lars." You smile, watching the boy leave. Little did you know, this would be the very beginning.

**_A/N: Disclaimers: I own nothing._**


	2. Trampoline

It had been almost a year since you met Lars. Honestly, you thought you'd never see him again after that night when you fixed him up after a fight, but, much to your surprise, he was waiting on your porch the next morning.

The two of you began spending a lot more time together, hanging out by the beach or going out to eat. Not much was said between you two during these meetings until this point. You were fourteen years old, wanting nothing more than to take a nice hot shower in piece, scrubbing away at your pale skin to rid yourself of the bike oil stuck on there from yesterday.

**_Flashback:_**

_"Hurry up, Sadie! Corey is expecting me at three today to ride bike!" Lars barks as you wince, the chain of his bike finally came un stuck from the pedal, whacking you in the face. You rub your sore nose and look up_

_"Are you going to help me at all?" You snap, setting down the pair of pliers you had been using._

_"No way! My dad would kill me if he saw me using his tools."_

_You rolled your eyes, wiping the sweat of your forehead. This certainly wouldn't be the first time you would hear your friend saying this, and it defiantly wouldn't be the last._

_"Fine. Keep it down then." A monotone voice replaces your usual squeak and you return to working. It takes a whole half hour before Lars is biking away, complaining about how he's going to be later._

_"You're welcome." You groan, trudging back into your house, only to flop on the couch and fall asleep._

**_End Flashback:_**

So here you were, five'o clock in the morning, standing in your shower, trying to rid yourself of the hard day's work. Once the oil was scrubbed away, all you wanted to do was relax in the hot water. You close the drain and turn off the shower head, deciding a bath would be more fitting for this task. You wince at the sudden cold, quickly turning the hot water back on and huddling close to the faucet as the tub fills back up.

Once the water is close to spilling over the sides, you shut it off, laying back to enjoy the-

BANG!

You sit up quickly at the sudden sound, pretty much scared half to death as it sounds again. It takes your foggy brain a moment to register that the sound was, in fact, someone knocking on the door.

"J-Just a minute!" You call down the stairs, finding a towel to cover yourself up in.

"SADIE! SADIE, HURRY!"

"Coming!" You call back, opting to simply throw on your pink, fuzzy bathrobe instead of actual clothes. You are just tying the rope around your waist when your mother gets the door.

"Lars? What are you doi-"

"No time, Mrs. Sadie's mom! I need Sadie's help!"

"With what?" You finally appear in the door way, wrapping a towel around your damp hair. The boy grabs you by the wrist and drags you from your home.

"Wait! I'm not in real clothes!"

"That's fine, you can borrow mine."

"I will NOT wear your boxers, Lars."

"Borrow my mom's then." The boy continues to drag you to his home two streets over.

Upon arrival to the house, you are lucky enough to find some of Lars' cousin's clothes were left at the house from her recent stay at the home. You didn't mind Klara much, but she was always teasing you about your weight, but you would explain more about her later. You quickly snatch up the t-shirt with the glittery cat on it and snag a pair of shorts from the couch. You cringe a bit as you tug the shirt over your head, already noticing the rather obvious size difference, the shirt fitting you just a bit too snug, the pants just barely buttoning, but that wasn't important. Well…to Lars anyway. He kept calling for you to hurry up, so you exit the house.

"So, what's the big idea?" You groan, trying to adjust your shirt. You face falls from it's already frowning look. There, in Lars' back yard, is a box of scattered parts. Metal rods, springs, a circular tarp, and screws scatter the grass. You inwardly cringe, "What...what is all this stuff?"

"_This stuff_, Miss Sadie, is about to be the greatest trampoline that this neighborhood has ever seen!"

"It's the _only_ trampoline this neighborhood has ever seen." You reply coldly, picking up an edge of the tarp. Lars shoots a glare in your direction before lifting the box into the air, shaking it before the instructions come tumbling down. He snatches them up, studying them carefully,

"I can't read it, it's in some foreign language."

"It's upside down..." You point out, gathering up all the screws that had been shaken into the grass.

"I knew that." He quickly corrects his mistake, darting his eyes back and forth before returning to reading, "Okay, connect two pulls togethe-."

"Wait, aren't you gonna help?"

"No way, one of us has to read the instructions!" Lars defends himself.

"We'll get it done faster if you jus-."

"Nope. I'd mess it up some how. You have to do it."

"Fine." You growl, "Just fine."

_Three hours later:_

"There." You wipe the sweat from your forehead, screwing the last screw in place.

"Really? That was fast!" Lars casts the instructions aside, springing up from his chair. You expect him to take a flying leap onto the newly assembled trampoline, but the bounce never comes. After several moments of awkward silence, you speak up,

"Uh...you gonna jump or what?" The red-head's reaction surprises you a bit. He shoves his right hand in his pocket and his left rubs the back of his neck.

"actually, I was going to let you go first."

"What? Seriously?" You look for any hint of a smirk on his face. Not that you didn't trust your awkward friend, but this was unlike him.

"Yeah, you did just build the entire thing."

"Uh...are you sure?"

"Positive."

"O-okay...here I go..." You slowly advance to the trampoline, wincing a bit as the springs creak beneath you. Once you're sure your weight is held, you take that first leap. The another. Then another.

Before you know it, you're having the time of you life, hopping around in circles.

"Come on, get on." You grab Lars by the wrists and tug him on to the trampoline. He laughs along with you now, spending the entire day with you. It doesn't take long for you to get tired and hop off.

"Hey, where ya goin'?"

"Home. Too tired."

"Oh...well, I'll walk ya home."

"Oh...thanks...I'd like that."


	3. Video Games

"Sadie, please, I'll pay you." Lars whines, currently on his knees as he asks, no, BEGS you to stand in line for him.

"Why can't you stand in line?" You growl, not very much appreciating the four am wakeup call. You hadn't even had time to make yourself look decent, simply running your fingers through your untamed hair to make it lay flat.

"Well…funny story…" His hand finds the back of his neck, rubbing lightly. You cross your arms and glare, leaning against the door frame of your house.

"Okay, so I was in Game Yield when I may have, sort of, kind of, uhhh...taken a video game...outside...Just to look at it."

"You were at Game Yeild at four in the morning?" You yawn into your palm, using the frame of the door as a pillow.

"Yes! This is Army of War we're talking abotu! People have been lining up since yesterday!"

"Oh, really now? I thought that line taking up half the town was for the circus that's not even in town." You roll your eyes, straightening yourself up.

"Sadiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiie!" Lars whines now, making you cringe. You hated when people whine. It's half the reason why you don't baby sit your little cousin. It's also half the reason why you were now sitting on the side walk beside the Big Donut, about four blocks from Game Yeild. You had been in line nearly two hours, wincing at the sun that was just begining to rise.

"Huh...haven't seen the sunrise in awhile." You comment, allowing your eyes to adjust to the stream of light, before turning your eyes back the the line. You had begun counting how many sidewalk squares were between you and Game Yeild. So far, if you shady math was correct, there were roughly 1056 sidewalk squares between you and your that you were complaining much. From your seat on the sidewalk, you could see the beautiful early morning veiw of the boardwalk. Nothing could beat that. As the line dragged on, you moved further up the line, now up to 1023 squares.

You were at 998 blocks when you heard running behind you.

"SAD-OW! Burns!"

"Lars?" You push off the side of the arcade, looking up at the taller boy. He is running to your spot in line, coffee in hand.

"How much longer until you get the game?" He looks up and down the line franticaly.

"I dunno...you got the time?" You stretch your arms high above your head, marveling in the pop you hear. Lars winces,

"Uh, I think it's about eight?"

"Eight o'clock, on the nose." Ronaldo confirms in front of you.

"Only eight? I've only been in line for an hour? Feels like a lot longer than that." You rub your eyes, admittedly falling asleep once or twice within that hour.

"Yeah...hey. I need to head back home. Got a few chores to do for my dad. I'll see ya later." Lars sets the coffee down on the sidewalk and heads off in the direction of his home.

"Hey, wait, you forgot yo-!"

"You can have it!" He calls back before his form dissapears down the road. Not that you were in to swapping spit with your friend or anything, but you were jsut about dying of fatigue and a little pick-me-up would do you a world of good. You reach down, picking up the coffee, which, much to your surprize, is still hot. It doesn't seem like much was drank from the cup either, maybe just a splash or so.

Maybe just like an accidental spill of the way over here.

Not really caring, just in desperate need of coffee, you chug back the beverage. It's just the way you like it, two sugars, and deffinatly wakes you up. You turn back to face the front of the line.

Fifty-nine squares down, only 997 to go.

* * *

At last, seven hours later, five of those hours spent in the baking heat of Beach City, you step into the air conditioned game store. It seems like a madhouse, games flying everywhere, people pretty much standing ontop of one another, trying to get what they had come for. It's times like these where you bless your tiny stature, easily diving beneath the swarm of people, squeezing your way to the front. You yourself does not make it to the counter, but you managed to reach your arm in between to fighters, setting your money on the counter.

"One 'Army of War', please." You croak from your spot. The cashier laughs as she despoits the money

"Certainly, miss."

* * *

You had dragged yourself home after your early morning adventure, far too tired to even consider walking to Lars' hosue.

"It'll be fine..." You reason, "I'll give it to him later." You crawl into your bed, letting the sleep that as robbed from you this morning quickly retake you. It's nearly six o'clock when you finally come to, a three hour nap doing you a wonders.

There are four missed calls and twleve text messages on the bright purple phone beside you. You unlock the screen, your eyes immediatly reacting from the betrayle you have bestowed on them. Throwing an arm over your aching face, you click open the first text.

'Sadie do u hav the game?'

Ha, typical Lars, not giving two hats about grammer. Laughing, you open the second one.

'Sadie, do u hav it yet?'

'Wut bout now?'

'Sadie?'

'Were r u?'

'Sadie, it's mom. I'm at the store. Do you need me to pick up anything for your rash?'

Okay, that last text was from your mother and no, you did not have a rash...it was hives on your arm from an allergic reaction to some lotion you put on. Silly moms, right?

Not the point. You shoot a quick text to Lars, 'Yes, I have the game. Headed over now.'

You drag yourself from your blanket cacoon, realizing you had yet to remove your shoes or hoodie, not that it really mattered as you were headed back out anyhow. You pick up the video game off your dining room table before heading up the block to Lars' house.

He's waiting in his room for you, already having the video game station set up. He took to a beanbag on the floor in front of his bed, ready.

Once you walk into the room, he's on you like a fly on honey, grabbing the game from you, "Look at it! It's so beautiful!" Lars is lost in the moment of vieo game beauty, so you help yourself off the floor. You look around the, noticing a few things.

First of all, the room you stand in looks clean. Well...cleaner than usual. There are no dirty clothes on the floor and the only food dishes to be seen are of two plates of spagetti Lars' mom had made you two.

The next thing you notice the boy's bed is nicely made, his sigular pillow now accompanied by several of the throw pillows usually found in his parents' room or on the living room couch.

The final thing you notice had you near leaping for joy. There, among the pile of cusions, was one of the most beautiful sights you have ever seen.

A big box of oaster crackers.

Those things were your favorite-no, favorite could hardly describe your love of the snack. But, why were they there? Lars didn't eat the crackers, you knew that for a fact (having gotten 'why do you eat those?' comments more than once)

"Those are for you." The red-head answers your question, setting the game in the system, watching it load before tossing a controller up to you, "Press B, player two." He says, passing you a plate of pasta as well.

The two of you spend the rest of the night, eating more of that spagetti (even fighting over the last noodle in the pot), tossing whatever uneaten oaster crackers there were at eachother, and talking about how awesome the videogame graphics were. You were now laying on your stomach of your friend's bed, the boy in question on his back on the floor, half the pillows on the bed now being used to make his beanbag chair a bit more comfortable

"Oh, mother lover! Get off my ass!" Lars argues with the game, aiming his characters gun at the enemy.

"Hey, where the hell are you?"

"I'm over by the cav- OH! OH! OH HELL NO! FUCK! WHERE'D THOSE GUYS COME FROM! PLAYER TWO, I NEED BACK UP ." Lars' character had just stumbled into a gang. reaching behind him, he tries pressing the X button on your controller.

"What are you doing?" You yank the controller away, "Where are you anyway?"

"I'm right there, AH! WHY ARE THERE SO MANY!?"

"Wait! There you are! Now, what does X do?"

"Power up! Hurry up!" He yells urgently, and you're pretty sure his mother and father have been woken up by it now. You click X, suddenly sporting a machine gun, easily taking down the enemy.

"LEVEL 16! WE'RE ON LEVEL 16!"

"Keep it down in there!" His dad shouts from his room, "I have to work in the morning!"

"Yeah, Lars." You snap, giggling to yourself. The boy shoots you a glare and returns to the game.

Level sixteen was as far as you two would get. You feel asleep half way through the level, still exghausted from yesterday's adventure. Lars paused to game, getting comfortable on his chair before falling asleep himself.

* * *

It's seven am the next morning and you're woken up by Lars' dad.

"Hey, Sadie, I'm about to leave for work, need a ride home?"

"Huh? Wuh? Where- did I sleep here last night?"

"Sure did. You kids were up till five, ya know that? Caroline was about to call the cops and file a complaint." Jerry laughs, leaving the room to grab his coat.

You laugh too, so like Lars' mom to say such a thing. Speaking of Lars, you throw his blanket off of your shoudlers, looking down over the edge of his bed. He's still in his chair, fast asleep. It takes everything in you to stop yourself from laughing before climbing off the bed, searching for your shoes.

"Thanks, player two..." You hear a mumble. A small smile spreads across your lips.

"Any time, player one."


	4. Piercings

You were going to be completely, one-hundred percent honest with yourself here. You hated needles. Hated them! You couldn't even thread a sewing needle without almost passing out! However...you did have your ears pierced.

Got 'em done when you were five (eleven years ago) and vowed never in a million years to ever step foot in a piercing parlor again. Well...you tried to anyway.

It was second period English class. You had a two pages of geometry to do, and nothing was going to stop you from finishing them! Well, almost nothing.

"Sadie, come with me to Piercing Plaza." Lars slams his hand down on top of your math homework.

"What?" You look up, setting your pencil down.

"All the cool kids are getting their ears pierced, so I will too." Lars seems so proud of his decision, but you just continue to stare at him, then the hand preventing you from completing your school work.

"Lars," You swat the hand away, "No. You know I hate needl-"

"Sadie, come on. I can't go in by myself! They'll think I'm a loser!"

"You're scared of needles too, aren't you?"

"Mildly, but that ain't the point!" Lars throws his arms up dramatically just as the bell rings.

"Alright, students, find and clear your desk, you have a pop quiz today!" Mrs. Yarmin exclaims joyously. Looks like your geometry homework was going to have to wait.

* * *

Piercing parlors reminded you of hospitals, another place you avoided like the plague. They smelled like rubbing alcohol and there was people getting stuck by needles everywhere you turned. You swallow thickly as you enter the place, sticking a bit too closely to Lars. A woman (well...you were almost sure it was) with spiky green hair, shaved into a mohawk and more metal in her face then was in the car you drove here in looked up at you two as you entered the store.

"Hey, gettin' pierced today?" She looked a bit to eager for an answer.

"U-uh. N-no, not-t me. H-him." You nudge Lars forward, but a quick hand finds your wrist and pulls you forward.

"We're getting the two for one deal today."

"Sweet! Got your IDs?" The woman steps out from behind the counter.

"Sure do."

"Wait, Lars, I didn't ag-!" You turn to protest but Lars isn't about to let you go.

"Come on, player two, its half off if we both get piercings. I didn't bring any extra money."

"L-lars, I c-can't!"

"You'll be fine," He smiles eagerly, dragging you to the back with him, "I'll let you go first."

* * *

Here you were, sitting in a chair, about to get your second ear piercings. You are biting your lip so hard you think it's bleeding as the woman readies her equipment.

"I-I c-can't do it." You keep mumbling, about to leap from your chair.

"Ah, don't worry about it, hun, it'll be over in a sec." She wipes your ear off with rubbing alcohol before picking up the needle. You shut your eyes tightly, breathing like you had just run a marathon. The pain you feel a second later sends you grabbing for the nearest thing, which just so happened to be Lars' shirt.

"Hey, Player two, calm down." He tries to detach your hand when you feel something. You lift your hand to your ear, touching the new piercing lightly. A thick substance slowly coats your hand.

"Yeah, you're bleeding a bit, but don't-"

You have no idea what the lady says next. All you feel is the sting from your other ear and a sudden darkness consumes you.

You pass out.

* * *

"Hey, Sadie...Sadie, wake up."

"H-huh...w-what happened?" Your eyes open slowly, vision a bit foggy before slowly coming back in to view. Lars is rubbing that back of your hand while the lady offers you a small cup of water.

"You passed out, hun. Happens to the best of us." Th woman smiles brightly. You take the water before turning to Lars. You promptly throw the drink at his face.

"YOU KNEW I WAS SCARED OF NEEDLES! YOU KNEW!" You jump from your chair, smacking him.

"Hey, hey, you did it though!"

"I- What?" You stop, looking in the mirror. There, just above your first pair is a brand new set of earrings. You never really noticed until this point just ow much you liked the look of a second piercing.

"Alright, who's next?"

"Uh..."

"Oh, come on, Lars, I did it, so now you have to." You fold your arms, a small smirk gracing your face, "Try not to pass out.

* * *

It had been nearly six months since your 'near death' experience. Your mother had flipped out when she saw your second piercings, but eventually calmed down, wishing you had asked before doing it.

"Believe me, you and me both." You had yawned, heading up to your room. Within those six months, the cool kids continued to do things that Lars just had to follow along with, the most recent one being when he showed up to your house at ten o'clock at night, asking you to shave his hair into a mohawk.

You were getting a bit fed up with the constant fads the cool kids tried to set, but this, this was simply too far.

You were sitting at your laptop, watching youtube videos of cats in baskets (hey, you needed some way to unwind) when a knock sounded at your...window?

You look up from your video quickly, just in time to see a small stone make contact with the pane of glass. You kick your swivel chair over to the window before flinging it open, unfortunately, a misguided stone made contact with your forehead, "Hey! What's the big- Lars?"

Sure enough, there is your crazy friend, his hoodie pulled low on his face.

"Hey...can I come up?"

"What did you do?" You fold your arms. He gives you a sheepish grin that you can just barely see beneath his hood.

"Well..."

"On a scale of 'Idiot' to 'You're dad is gonna kill you', how bad is it?" You finally retort. That grin only grows and you are shocked.

"No! Lars, you didn't! Did you get a tattoo?"

"No..."

"What did you do then..."

"Well..."

"Just wait there, I'm coming down." You slam the window shut, grabbing your blanket off your bed. You tug it over your shoulders and begin to make your way down the steps. Lars is already at the porch, waiting for you.

"Okay, let me see." You fold your arms. Lars takes his hood off, showing off his latest modification.

"Plugs...you go plugs!?" gauges were by far one of the dumbest things you had ever seen and on Lars...it just made it worse.

"Thing dad'll notice?"

"Yes. Yes I do." You fold your arms, casting a glare at the boy. The plugs themselves made the boy's already large ears stick out even more than usual.

"Awh, come on, Sadie, they look cool." You simply roll your eyes at this.

"Good night, Lars, I'm going to bed."


	5. Sadie and the Bad, Bad, Day

**Sadie's POV (As always):**

Awh, you knew today was going to be a bad day. You just knew it! You had woke up in the middle of an amazing dream (you were making out with Jesse McCartney, total score!) to the sound of your alarm clock, letting you know you were now horribly late for work. You gasp when you see the time, throwing the alarm across the room in a desperate attempt to shut it up.

Leaping from the comfort of your bed, you immediately search the floor for your work shirt and a pair of moderately clean jeans. You find the jeans (well...moderately clean was a bit of a stretch) and slip them on. You search more frantically, but your work shirt is no where to be seen.

"MOM, WHERE'S MY SHIRT!?" You call out from the top of the stairs.

"Oh! I found it on your floor. It's in the wash!" She calls back, causing an onset of panic in you. Jumping down all twelve stairs that link the top part of the house to the bottom, you rush to the laundry room, flinging the washing machine open.

Much to your surprise, the machine is empty.

"Uh, mom, did you switch loads?" You call.

"Yes, I just did." She seats herself in the kitchen in front of the door, watching you search as she drinks her morning coffee.

A bit of hope fills you as you open the dryer, maybe your shirt was already-

Soaked. It was absolutely soaked.

Having no time to let the thing dry, you pull it over your head and rush to find your shoes. You find one by the front door, the other...

Well...you now know that Malow, the next door neighbor's dog, loves shoes.

* * *

Now on your way to work, soaking shirt and bitten shoe and all, you think to yourself, "Can't get much worse that this." However, You say this before your step in the puddle of mud, just outside the Big Donut. The dirt seeps into the bite mark in your shoe, coating your socks.

"Great." You groan, opening the door and flipping the closed sign to open. You limp to the counter, only to notice the trail of mud you left behind you. It would be at least another forty-five minutes before Lars showed up, the morning rush would most likely be in by that time, so you head to the break room, grabbing the mop and bucket.

As soon as you reach down to grab the items, you wince. A pain shoots up you back, causing you to groan, "Must've hurt it this morning." You shrug, picking up the bucket and cleaning up the mess of dirt.

Once settled behind the counter you breathe a sigh of relief, but the relief doesn't last long.

A rather long line of customers is approaching the store and it's at this point you realize, you never got to go to the bathroom this morning.

* * *

"Mornin', Player two." Lars calls as he walks in. You jump from behind the counter, running to the male, only to slip on the wet floor from earlier. You crash into the lanky teen, sending both of you to the floor.

"Sadie, what gives!" Lars pushes you off, rubbing a sore spot on his shoulder now. You are in no mood to communicate as a civilized human being as you drag him behind the counter.

"I've had to pee all morning! Where were you!?" You don't give him time to answer as you run off the employee bathroom. Much like before, that relief doesn't last long as you realize something.

* * *

Lars keeps his distance at the far end of the counter, watching as you return. Something about you must have thrown him off because he has yet to throw some sort of comment at you.

Oh! You knew what it was! It was that uncharacteristic scowl you had on your face! You looked like you could beat someone up just for looking at you wrong! That had to be it!

"Sadie, are you okay?" You know the comment has absolutely no real concern behind it, so you opt to ignore it. You pull up a chair behind the register and sit down, putting you're head down on the table.

"Uh...player two?" Lars pokes you with the handle of the mop you left out, waiting for a reaction. He goes to do it again when you reach up, grabbing the thing.

"Poke me with that again and I will personally kill you in your sleep." You comment without even looking up.

"What's with you?" Lars comment, "Is someone on their time of the month?"

You can feel the smirk in his voice, which only makes your face grow red in anger. The teen begins laughing, practically rolling around in his chair. Oh boy, he really thought he had you pegged.

"Ha! Ha! Real funny, Lars, real funny!" You finally look up, smiling at him before punching him swiftly across the face.

"Hey! What was that for!"

"I'M HAVING A BAD DAY!" You exclaim, standing up so quickly, you chair falls over. You stomp back into the break room, turning to call, "Cover for me. I'm gonna go take a nap."

Lars visibly winces when you slam the door behind you before you settle on top of the napkin stacks to sleep.

* * *

After a nice, fifteen minute nap, you feel even worse that you already did. Cramps are attacking every inch of your middle and an unbelievable migraine has set in. Everything in the room is irritating to you, so you close your eyes again.

It's at this time where the Amazon you were is replaced with the five-year-old you wish you still were as you roll around on your back, hugging your tummy. You sit yourself up and make an attempt to grab your purse, looking frantically for the bottle of Advil you kept in there.

You find the bottle, knowing already that for a sixteen year old, you would have to take two pills to get any pain relief. You unscrew the lid and turn the bottle completely upside down, shaking out its contents.

"One!? There's only one!? Who takes an uneven number of Advil!?" You think to yourself, taking the lone pill. At least is was something.

Tossing the empty bottle away, you step out of the break room, heading back behind the counter. Much to your surprise, well...not really, Lars isn't there. You're about to start cursing death threats to the boy when he returns, turning the 'Out to lunch' sign to 'open'.

"Hey, crabby, have a nice nap?" Lars asks, slinging a grocery bag over his shoulder.

"Where were you?" You snapped, folding your arms. The red-head sets the bag on the counter.

"Got ya some bribes so you don't kill me in my sleep."

"Awh, thanks, Lars." You dig out a bottle of Advil and some oyster crackers.

"So...we good now?"

"Hmmm...let me think about that."


	6. Seven Minutes in Heaven

You never really liked going out. Not to football games, not to the mall, not to wrestling matches, nothing! Your ideal Friday night was staying home and watching cat videos in your pajamas. However, with the kinds of people you knew, that was never really an option.

"Hey, Sadie!" You look up from your math homework as Kiki enters the fifth hour English class you two share. The smile on her face lets you know that you're in BIG trouble. You hardly have time to form a greeting, let alone run like hell, when the girl continues, "Jenny and her friends are throwing a party tonight, want to come?"

"Uh...no, sorry...I'm really busy." You say, shoving your assignment in to your backpack to further your point. However, in all your years of knowing Kiki, you knew that wouldn't let you out of this. You could count on both hands and a foot the number of things she has dragged you two (one of those times, you really HAD been busy)

"And why not? Lars is gonna be there." Kiki nudges you, a smirk plastered to her features. You roll your eyes.

"For the upteenth time, we are NOT dating."

"Well then, Ronaldo is gonna be there."

"Ew, no! He'll probably try taking pictures of me for his creepy blog!"

"That was one time, Sadie."

"Yeah, when I was sleeping!"

"Okay, so maybe he is a little weird, but why don't you want to go? It's your junior year, parties should be, like, your life."

"I just don't want to go, alright?"

"Why don't you just come for an hour." Kiki leans are your desk, basically rooting herself there until you respond.

"Fine. But just ONE hour."

"Great! See ya tonight, Sadie!" Kiki returns to her desk, just in time for the bell to ring.

* * *

"Gah, why can't Kiki just leave me alone?" You groan, looking for a clean shirt to wear to the party. You settle on a simple grey t-shirt, a pair of black leggings and your regular maroon boots. Yup, there you go. That's all the effort you were going to put in yourself tonight. You tug your jacket onto your shoulders and head outside, walking up the street to Kiki and Jenny's house.

Despite being juniors and seniors, half of you still couldn't drive, let alone own a car. By the time you arrive, there is a mess of bikes, skateboards, roller skates, and for some reason, a unicycle, parked out on the front lawn. You carefully climb your way up to the front door, preparing to knock when the front door is flung open.

"Sadie! Just in time!" Kiki grabs you by the arm, dragging you inside.

The party is in full swing, red solo cups, if not in someone's hands, are on the floor, mostly spilled, as if the owner had no regards for the drink if it left their possession. Bags of open chips and popcorn as scattered on couch and arm chairs while some strange music blares from a boombox in the corner of the room. The house is crammed with teenagers, making it impossible to move from one part of the house to the next. Whatever teenagers weren't busy making out against the walls were busy grinding on anything they could find in tune to the awful music.

For lack of a better term, this party was disgusting. Lucky for you though, Kiki grabs you by the arm again, dragging you up the stairs. You trip once or twice up the flight of stairs, discarded bottles of what you were pretty sure wasn't soda litter the landings. The girl in front of you opens the door to her room, leading you inside.

Ronaldo is on the floor, setting up the game system, while Sour Cream and Buck fight over which version of Dance, Dance, Revolution to play.

"We had to set the game station up here since it wa getting too crowded downstairs." Kiki explains, sitting herself down on her well made bed.

"Those vibes were real heavy down there. That ain't what partying is all about." Buck removes his shades to rub his eye before replacing them on his face.

"Uh...alright." You sit yourself down beside Kiki, trying to make yourself as small as possible. You really felt awkward being here. Why couldn't you be at home, in your pajamas, where it was safe from teen hormones? Well, at least you were in Kiki's room and not downstairs where they were doing Lord knows what.

"Hey, guys, come down here, we have an uneven number." Jenny calls up the stairs. The five of you lean out, looking at the teen. She is currently in the arms of some guy you have never seen before, two hats with pieces of paper folded in each. The dancing has stopped and the room is divided between the males and the females.

"W-what going on?" You ask, turning to Kiki for an answer.

"Seven minutes in Heaven." Jenny is quick on the draw, explaining before her sister can even turn to face you.

"Oh, uh, no, uh, I need to, um, get going." You try to hustle your way down the stares but Jenny catches you by the arm.

"No way, girl, you just got here."

"No, seriously, I need to go now."

"Don't worry, you can go first than." Jenny smirks, dragging you down the hall to the closet. She pushes you in before pulling a name from on of her hats, "And it looks like miss Sadie is going to be in the closet with..." She pauses for dramatic effect before grinning, "Lars."

A mix of 'Ooohs' and gasps fills the air, before turning into wild cheers as the boy in question is thrust in to the closet beside you, the door slamming shut behind him.

"Great. You just had to get put in here first, didn't you." Lars snaps, doing his best to straighten up in the small closet.

"Me!? How is this my fault!?" You elbow the boy in the chest trying to straighten your arm.

"It just is! Now I have to spend seven minutes with you instead of Jenny!"

"Oh, you say that like it's a bad thing!"

"Well it is! I would never kiss you! Never!"

"And why not!? I'm as good as Jenny."

"Maybe to Ronaldo."

"You take that back!" Your fist collides with his arm.

"Hey, watch it!"

"I meant to do that!" You growl angrily.

"Look, we have five minutes left, so you stay on that side of the closet and I'll stay on this side." Lars moves to the corner of the closet, knocking over a broom.

"Watch it! That almost hit me!" You threw the broom back in his direction.

"No way! That stays on your side!" He tossed it right back.

"Just take it!" Lars takes a step forward to prevent you from entering his side of the closet, however, the broom catches him by the ankle, sending him crashing forward. You are both trying to regain your senses when the closet door is flung open. Kofi and Nanafua stand before you.

"That's it, out, out, out." Kofi drags Lars off of you...wait...LARS!? OFF OF YOU!?

"I-it's not what it looks like! We weren't-" You try to explain, but by now, everyone's attention is on Kofi, who is currently scolding Jenny for throwing such a wild party. You use this distraction as cover, hurrying your way out the door. You pull your hoodie over your head, keeping you head as far down as possible. The more you thought of it, the harder you blushed.

You had been in a closet with Lars on top of you less than a minute ago! You rush back to your house, sitting yourself in front of your laptop, typing 'youtube' into a search box. It was going to take quite a bit of cat videos to get that image out of your head.

Of course, it would take much longer for everyone else to forget that.

Great, now you couldn't show your face in public ever again!


	7. Fake Out

You knew today was going to be interesting, you just knew! From the minute you got out of bed and got dressed, to the moment you sat yourself down on the front porch, to the second you put your glass of lemonade to your lips, hand still in your bag of oyster crackers.

"Something's off..." You mumble behind your drink, setting it down slowly so you could look up and down the street. Sour Cream and Onion were playing football in the streets with Buck Dewey, while Jenny and Kiki came walking down the street. Ronaldo chased after a squirrel while his ten-year old brother, PeeDee, followed close behind with a video camera. Steven laughed loudly, watching from the curb, a bag of popcorn in hand.

Yup, nothing out of place here.

You simply shrug, stretching your legs out in front of you. Maybe you were just being paranoid, yeah, that had to be it. You had woke up later than usual, so you most likely were just a bit thrown off by this.

Shrugging, you return to you-

"Sadie, Sadie, hide me!" PeeDee screams, jumping behind you.

"Sadie, hide me too!" Steven seems to think this is simply a game, despite the obvious terror on PeeDee's face.

"Sa-"

"I'm not hiding you too, Ronaldo!" You sit up suddenly, the two younger boys behind you sift to cower with your new position. You put your hands on your hips, trying to appear intimidating.

"You popped out ball, not cool man." Buck folds his arms. Ronaldo is quick to defend himself.

"You mean alien communicator?! I was protecting you!"

"It was a football, man, go get us a new one."

"You're dad is the mayor, don't you have, like, a million footballs laying around?" Jenny stops to watch the commotion.

"That ball meant a lot to me..." The Dewey son looks as if he's about to shed a lone tear, but you are having none of it today.

"Man up, Dewey. This is something I'd expect from-"

"Hey, has anyone seen Lars?" Kiki pipes up, looking around the group that has gathered in front of your house. You look around yourself, finally registering that the boy is, in fact, missing.

"THE ALIENS GOT LARS!" Ronaldo screams suddenly, causing everyone within a four block vicinity to jump and cover their ears.

"Ronaldo, calm down!" You whack the boy on the back of the head, sending his glasses off his face, "He's probably still sleeping."

"That's what they said about my pet hamster...he was actually dead for three days." Sour Cream makes his first comment of the day,. earning him some concerned glances from the other children.

"Uh...thanks for sharing that..." Kiki rubs her arm uncomfortably. Sour Cream nods before a an unsettling hush settles over the crowd. The silence doesn't last long as everyone begins to resume their own tasks. Onion has long since returned with another foot ball, PeeDee and Steven begin a game of tag as Ronaldo runs off to chase a bird.

Sitting back down slowly, you find yourself feeling like something was off again. You finally stand yourself up, retreating into your house to grab your flip-flops before walking down the street.

* * *

The walk to Lars' house never took long, more so because you were always cutting through the neighbor's over-grown yard (not that they were every home, actually) but, even this felt off to you. You could usually make it to at least the front door before hearing the stressed syllables of your own name.

"Sadie!" You hear a hiss from the second story window above your head.

"Lars?" You look up, meeting eyes with the red-head. He seems more distressed from usual.

"Why didn't you answer your phone!?"

"Some of us left our phones in out room so we could enjoy the great outdoors." You fold your arms, slightly annoyed with the boy's tone. However, curiosity gets the better of you, so you have to ask, "What do you need anyway?"

"Klara is coming to town for a week!"

"Oh, Klara? Haven't seen her in a while. That's nice." You pick at your nails, suddenly not caring for the boy's reason. You raise your index finger to your mouth to bite the nail when Lars follows up his statement.

"I need you to be my girlfriend!"

Your hand drops from your lips as you look up, "You...what!?" Your face is such a bright red, you can actually see it glow. You search desperately for any sort of humor in the boy's expression, but, dear Lord, you can't find it! He looks dead serious and you look, well, dead.

"I need you to pretend to be my girlfriend while Klara is in town!" The blush leaves your face quickly a bit of confusion sets in.

"Uh...is this really necessary?"

"Yes! Klara is always bugging me about not havin' a girlfriend. She'll leave me alone if I have one!"

"Lars, that is the dumbest thing I've ever heard. I don't even know how to be a girlfriend!"

"It can't be that hard! Just, I dunno, say you love me or something!" Lars climbs onto the pane of his window, preparing to leap. You throw your arms up,

"Lars, don't do that! You're gonna break your leg or something and I am _not _spending fifteen hours in the e.r with you again!"

"Get a room, you too." The neighbor, who is home for some reason, calls from her window.

"Who asked you!?" You and Lars shout in unison. You two cast glares at each other before Lars takes his leap. As anticipated, he does get hurt, falling into the bushes below and getting scraped up, but nothing too bad. Deciding you would need professional advice, the two of you head up to the love doctor himself,

Mr. Greg Universe

* * *

"Mr. Universe, may we ask you a question?" You fold your hands behind your back, trying to make up for the politeness that one of you lacked. Lars leans against the car that Greg is currently working on, rubbing blankly at his sore arm. The older man looks up at the both of you before smiling.

"Sure thing, kids, what do you need?" He wipes his hands off on a rag close by.

"How do you love someone?" Lars pipes up, shoving himself off the car.

"Uh...aren't you kids a little young to be-"

"No, not like that! How do you love someone, like...say one of us had to pretend to be dating someone...how would you do it?" You grin real big, trying to elevate any belief that it's you who was being spoken about. Greg looks confused, but smiles anyway,

"Well...when Rose and I were dating...well...you hold hands...and um, say I love you a lot. You know, stuff like that."

"So...basically the stuff in those crappy chick flics my mom watches?" Lars asks.

"You got it kid. Down to the end credits." Greg winks, "So try it, Sadie, tell Lars you love him."

The comment catches you off guard, causing that blush from before to return. All eyes are on you, so you know you have to go through with it.

"Lars...I, uh...don't hate you?" You look at Greg, "How was that?"

The father smacks his forehead with the hand still containing his rag from before. The cloth leaves a layer of grime and grease on his face, "No...no, not at all...try with...more emotion."

"Oh, so something like, 'Oh, Lars, I love you with all my lovingness'." You muse sarcastically, slinging your arm around his waist for dramatic effect. The blush from your face is now on his, and the look Greg is giving both of you lets you know that he is really questioning what he just got himself in to.

"Why don't you...just do it like you did in the closet."

"What!?"

"Kofi says he caught you two playing seven minutes in heaven, so-"

"IT WASN'T WHAT IT LOOKED LIKE!" You defend quickly, the blush in Lars' face has gone up by two hundred percent. As if that moment couldn't get much worse, another voice rings out.

"What are we talking about?"

"AH! KLARA! YOU'RE NOT SUPPOS-."

"I came early. Couldn't wait to see my only cousin." Klara grins, though it could easily be confused as a smirk. Lars' blush is now gone and replaced with a scowl. Greg takes this opportunity to finally help you two out...sorta.

"So, Lars, aren't you going to take Klara and your _girlfriend_ around the boardwalk?" He smiles awkwardly, leaning in for emphasis.

"Uh...yeah...yeah, that's what we're gonna do...come on, ladies..." Lars flings his arm out, offering you his hand. You take it on impulse, though both of you keep your arms rather far away from your bodies. Greg only face palms again as you make your way up the street.

* * *

The day couldn't have been anymore awkward than it started. Questions just kept pouring out of Klara's mouth and answers just kept pouring out of Lars.

"So, how long have you and Sadie been together?"

"Six months on Wednsday."

"Do you hug her all the time?"

"Yup. Everytime I see her."

"Do you have nicknames for each other?"

"Yup, I'm stud and she's player two."

"Have you kissed her yet?"

"Yup. We make out all the time."

The blush is officially passed back to you. However, what happens next makes your mouth run dry.

"Let's see it then." Klara folds her arms, that smirk returning.

"Uh...what?" Lars actually begins to sweat, gripping your hand just a bit tighter.

"Let's see it, kiss your girlfriend."

"Uh...c-can't do that..."

"And why not?"

"She has, uh...cantkisstitus...it's a disease where she can't kiss people..." The face palm is now passed to you as well as your palm collides with your forehead.

"Lars, just kiss your girlfriend...unless...you aren't actually dating her." Klara smirks, leaning in the poke her cousin in the chest, "Well, huh, are you dating her, Larsie, huh?" her smirk intensifies.

"Yes I am!"

"Kiss her then."

"Fine!" Lars growls, bending quickly and kissing you swiftly on the cheek. As if matters couldn't get much worse, something rather unexpected happens.

"I KNEW IT, I KNEW THEY WERE TOGETHER!" Kofi just so happened to be stepping outside his restaurant when Lars kissed you. Both of your faces light up as you turn to look at the man.

"Knew what, daddy?" Jenny leans out the door, hearing the sudden outburst.

"Those children are involved in a romantic relationship!" Kofi points an accusing finger in your direction. To make matters worse, Nanafua appears in the doorway now.

"Everyone know that, dear."

"Yeah, dad, get with the times."

"You should follow my blog, there's a whole post about it." Ronaldo appears from within a garbage can beside the store.

"You guys are actually dating? I thought you two were just making it up or something." Klara is generally shocked. All you can do is burying your face in your hands.

"If only you knew...if only you knew..."


	8. Depression

_**Warning: Contains mentions of cutting and suicidal thoughts. Very touchy subject matter.**_

Depression was never really something you never had to deal with...or at least something you thought you never had to deal with. You didn't understand it at the moment. To you, yeah, life was hard sometimes, even you yourself found yourself feeling down about it, but it was never something you felt the need to get sad about. Nah, life was too short for that.

Sure, there were many things you'd still like to change, but that was aside the point. Your weight would stay the same, you probably wouldn't grow to your desired height, and most likely, you'd spend the rest of your high school years without the multiple friends you'd like to have, but that was just fine. You accepted that. However, not everyone thought the way you did.

You remember when you came to this realization, but every time you thought on it, it made you want to cry. You allowed yourself so much as a choked gasp, but that would be all. The only reason you were thinking about it now was because the more you retold the story, the closer to closure you seemed to come.

It was...hmm...how many years ago was it now? You were sixteen at the time so...anyway, it happened your junior year of high school. It was a Saturday afternoon in the middle of the day. It was grey out that day, a slight fog hung around the board walk as the late summer/early fall heat stuck to the moisture in the air. You had been biking up the street, making your way to Lars' house to see if he wanted to play video games, as it was too hot to play outside. You had stopped your bike to tie your hair up in a ponytail before continuing on your journey.

"His mom better have the AC on..." You mumbled, finally reaching the house. You did not want to sit in a one-hundred degree house when it was only ninety-nine degrees outside. You climbed off your bike, letting it clank to the ground and get stuck in the dirt as you walk up to the front door. You're about to knock when you realize something odd; the door was already open.

Pushing past the slim opening, you enter the home, "Hello?" You call out, taking a short moment to enjoy the cool air you were first greeted by.

"Sadie?" Much to your surprize, it's Lars' mother who calls back to you. She is seated at the kitchen table, a couple of klenex held tight in her hands.

"H-hey...sorry, the door was already open..." You try to explain the sudden intrusion, but the women only gives a slight nod.

"Oh, it's alright...you know you're always welcome here..." She mumbles, standing from her seat and pacing the kitchen you both resided in.

"Um...is something wrong?" You step beside the woman, trying to get a look at her face. He eyes and nose are red and judging by the amount of kleenex you now notice in a waste paper basket beside the table, you know why, "D-did something happen?"

The woman only sinks to her knees, quickly pulling you into a tight hug and weeping yet again. You go rigid, unsure of how to react, "Uh...I-I'm sure it's alright..." You offer slowly, patting her on the back. You can't help but feel a sense of dread now, one that wont seem to go away. After a few tense moments, she pulls away, returning to her seat.

"Why do things have to be this way..." She whimpers, causing you to cast a curious glance.

"What way?" You look around the house now, "Where's Lars?"

The name, for some reason, seems to chill the mother in front of you before she looks up.

"His dad found him this morning in his room...he had cuts all over his body...and a note beside him...h-he..." She bites her lip, trying to will herself to say the rest, "H-he...was going to..." She can't continue, so you finish up.

"K-kill himself?" You ask, receiving a nod.

It was at that moment, and even this moment now, you felt a sudden emptiness, beginning in the pit of your stomach and working its way out. You're hands started to shake as you thought it over now. Those words strung together like that, it was all so unreal. The only proof you had was when your body betrayed you, carrying you up the two flights of stairs to the boy's room. The door was wide open, but the feeling that you weren't supposed to be in there hit you hard. Your numb legs carried you to the bed where you take a seat. A paper crumples beside you, causing you to look down.

The paper itself is crinkled, as if it had been held by multiple shaking hands. The corners were torn and much to your horror, covered in red spots.

"Maybe it's just written in red pen..." You mutter, slowly picking it up. The feeling that you shouldn't be in the room only hits you harder, but you hold your ground. The paper is steadily unfolded, as if opening it too fast would cause it to shatter some how. Once open, you carefully begin to read.

_'It's better this way...everyone can be happier now. I'm not needed here. By the time anyone reads this, I'll probably be dead, not that anyone would care. Maybe they would, I dunno. Maybe mom and dad would finally be able to do half the shit they talked about doing...maybe Sadie could make some new friends instead of wasting her time with me. I never did get to be friends with Jenny and her friends, not that it would have made shit any better...I just can't take living in a world where everyone else is happy except me...I don't want to be lonely anymore. I can't stand another day of it...Sorry and I love everyone...I just wished they cared about me.'_

You finish reading with tears in your eyes and clenched fists. You rub roughly at your eyes, desperately trying to stop the hot tears that slid down your cheeks, doing everything in your power to replace the sorrow you felt with anger.

How dare he. How dare he think the way he did! How could he have said those things!? HOW COULD HE HAVE DONE THIS TO YOU-

"What are you doing in here..."

You neck snaps up, looking in the direction of the voice.

There he was. The man of the house. Wrists bandaged up, a hospital band resting loosely around one of them. This reignited your anger, sending you flying at the boy.

"HOW COULD YOU DO THIS!?" You yell, fists colliding with any part of the boy you could reach. Your anger was in over drive, sending more hits.

"HOW COULD YOU DO THIS YOURSELF," Hit, "YOUR FAMILY," Another hit, "ME!?" Your violence is reduced to sobs as your fists now find themselves tangled in the your friend's shirt. The body you're clinging so desperately to finally crumbled beside you, sobbing in just the same way.

"I'm sorry..."

"How could you!?"

"I-I'm sorry..."

"How..."

"I-"

"Lars, I d-don't u-understand it...I don't...Y-you have all of us...why would y-you do- think! W-why would you e-even THINK of s-something like this?" The tension is enough to send both of you in to tears again, his arms now wrapping just as tightly around you as your arms were around him.

"I-I just feel so l-lonely all the time..."

"Lars, you need help...you can't keep thinking this way." You look up slowly, "I love you...remember that, okay?"

He nods, but you know the phrase doesn't mean nearly as much as it could, but it was a start away.

In present time, you lay in bed, tearing up just a bit as you remember that day. It would be the first of many times like this, Lars crying in your arms while you reminded him over and over again that you cared for him. They would stop all together, but the feeling worry never left you.

Rolling on to your side, you close your eyes once more, trying to think of a happier time.


	9. Beach Summer Fun

Ah, fifteen, the age where you were have no idea who you are, where you're going in life, and how to drive a car. Not that it really mattered to you, anyway, living on the boardwalk most of your life, you didn't need to drive anywhere, the only place you were going was to Kiki and Jenny's house, and as far as you were concerned, you were Sadie.

The summer had greeted you that year with the warmest of hugs and the brightest of sunshine smiles. However, those sunshine smiles burned the hell out of your skin.

It was because of this fact that you always found yourself walking down to the beach, a sunhat and shades adorning your face and a one piece, light purple swimsuit covered your body. Now, like more fifteen year old girls your age, you were a tad self concious. You spent at least an hour deciding what to wear and another another doing your best to not to rip the dreaded things off your body and hide under a rock for the rest of your life.

You actually were a bit jealous when standing beside your best friend, Lars. Sure, he was a guy, but he had a body type worth giving up oyster crackers for! He had the longest legs you had every seen on anyone. You had never tripped over your own short legs, but watching the boy trip over his own made it look all too fun. It was also for this reason that Lars was coming to the beach with you today.

The male in question had put on an awkward amount of spray tan before hitting the beach with you today, intending on picking up a few females on your day's outing. You roll your eyes as Lars flexes his arms, attempting to show off the muscles that he doesn't have. You giggle at the display, quickly hiding your face behind your sunhat. A glare is cast in your direction as you two finally reach the beach.

You wince a bit as the sand burns between your toes, suddenly questioning why you had ever taken off your flip-flops in the first place. You do you best to find a spot for your things on the beach, but with the summer rush taking up most of the spaces in the shade, you settle on one by the water, laying your beach towel down first, then setting up your umbrella.

You turn back to your towel, only to find out, with much annoyance, your towel was already taken.

"Lars, get up!" You grab a corner of the cloth, tugging it. This gets you no where as Lars' body pretty much takes up the whole length of the thing, not leaving much for you to flip. You attempt to kick sand in his direction, but he doesn't seem to care. You growl in frustration when something hits you, literally.

You sputter as excess sand lands in your mouth before quickly looking to see what had hit you. Laying at your feet was another beach towel.

"Here, quit whining." Lars settles back into his laying down position, having sat up to flig the towel at you.

"Why don't you use this and give me back mine?" You toss the towel back at him. He lifts his sunglasses to get a better look at you

"Because, your's is long and I can actually lay on it." He lets his glasses fall back down now. You groan, but there was really no point in arguing. The only chance you had at getting your towel back was if Lars were to get up and judging by the way he's lounging, that would be never.

The towel is laid out beside your own, and you sit rather than lay down, cracking open a bottle of soda.

"Mind handing me one?" Lars sits up at the sound of the drink fizzing and you nod, passing one to the boy. The two of you sit in silence for awhile, sipping at the cold beverages before Lars looks up. There was Jenny and her friends, playing volleyball not too far from you.

"You can go play with them." You shrug, tucking your blonde hair behind you ear. The red-head shrugs, remaining in his seat.

"Suit yourself. I'm gonna go swimming." You stand, dusting the sad off your knees and heading out to the water beside you.

"Wait, I'll come with." Lars jumped up a bit too fast to seem normal, following. Again, you shrug, stepping in to the water. You only go in about knee deep, despite the muggy weather, the water is cold, so only a splash was refreshing, a full out swim was too much.

"Hey, look..." You hear a voice beside you, "That one has a nice rack." You turn to see a few boys near you, eyeing you up. You blush, trying to hide the blush when one of the boys follows up with, "Too bad she's fat."

The comment hurts...bad actually.

"Wow, what an asshole." Apparently Lars had heard the comment, looking over at the boy's now, "Can you believe that g-"

You had begun to sniffle a little bit. You knew you should just ignore the comment, but it was hard. It hurt a lot when people made fun of your eight, and for a complete stranger to be saying those things only made it worse. You are just about to start crying when something interesting happens.

"HEY! YOU TAKE THAT BACK, JERK!" Lars stomps over to the boys.

"L-Lars?" Is all you can muster as the fists start flying

* * *

"Honestly, Lars, how you manage to get yourself maimed is beyond me!" The boy's mother yells as she presses an ice pack to his now blackened eye. Aside from the eye, Lars' other injuries consist of a bloodied nose and several bruises.

"What were you thinking, you should have just ignored them." You rub blankly at your arm, suddenly noticing how cold a wet swimsuit could make an air conditioned house seem.

"But you weren't going to ignore them..."

"No...but that's not the point. They were making fun of me, not you..."

However, the smirk doesn't leave the red-head's face.

"You shoulda seen the other guys, Player Two."

"I did...they totally kicked your ass."

**_A/N: Inspired by a picture done by bonehatter on tumblr. They are super amazing and awesome and go check 'em out :D _**


	10. Summer Jobs and Social Anxiety

Today was the day! Today was the day that you, Miss Sadie, at the lovely age of sixteen, became a working class woman! You had woke up extra early to grab your brand new work shirt and stare at yourself in your full length bedroom mirror, admiring the way the shirt made you look so professional. You could scream...so you did!

"I CAN'T BELIEVE I GOT MY FIRST JOB!" You scream, throwing your arms up in the air.

"SADIE! IT'S SIX IN THE MORNING!" Your mother calls back down, ending your little proud party.

"Sorry, mom!" You call back, before flopping onto your bed. In one more hour, you would be an official job holder. Deciding you should be well rested for your day, you shut your eyes to catch a little mor-

"SADIE!" A shrill cry is heard outside your home, causing your eyes to snap back open. You spring from your bed, having a pretty good idea who the voice belonged to and where they would most likely end up. You open your bedroom door, heading straight for the stairs. You jump the last three steps before heading to the front door. You knew all too well that had you not skipped those steps, banging to the poor door would have begun. You finally reach the front door and turn the knob.

"LARS, IT'S SIX IN THE MORNING!" You shout out, just as the boy makes it up the stairs.

"SADIE, LARS, ARE YOU TRYING TO WAKE THE WHOLE NEIGHBORHOOD!?" Your mom calls yes again.

"SORRY, MOM!"

"SORRY, SADIE'S MOM!"

"SHUT UP!" The old lady from next door pipes up. Lars sends her a quick middle finger before turning back to you. He sucks in a breath to call for you again, for whatever reason. You were standing right there after all. You quickly slams your hands over his mouth before he can continue.

"What, what do you need?" You ask in a hushed tone, slowly removing your hands.

"I need a job."

"...You came to my house at six in the morning because you need a job?" You lean on your door frame, crossing your arms. The boy folds his arms in the same manner, leaning himself against the porch railing.

"Didn't you just get a job at the Big Donut?"

"Yes, what's your point?" You snap at the sixteen year old, getting aggravated.

"Get me a job!"

"What? Lars, no."

"Why not?" Lars looks furious now. You only roll your eyes.

"Let's face it, you aren't exactly...work material."

"What do you mean I'm not work material!? I work plenty hard!"

"Sleeping in class and playing video games all night does not count as work." You smirk at your own comeback, eliciting a growl from the boy.

"I'll have you know that sleeping in Mrs. Dakers class is hard work AND an art form!"

You laugh at this, turning to close the door, "Well, sorry, Picasso, but I'm not getting you a job at the Big Donut." You go to close the door when Lars folds his arms,

"You realize it's seven, right?" A quick glance at the clock on the stove in the kitchen actually confirms the boy's response and your eyes widen.

"Oh, crap! I'm gonna be late!" You grab your jacket, calling good bye to your mother before barreling out the door, knocking Lars over the porch railing.

* * *

"Thank you, sir, have a nice day." You grin, making your first ever donut sale. You close the cash register, trying to keep the grin off your face, but it just won't leave. So far, you had been at work for a whole fifteen minutes and loved every minute of it!

"Katie." Your boss walks up to you now.

"Uh, it's um, Sadie, sir..."

"You have a new employee to train. Think you can handle it?"

"Um...sir, it's my fi-"

"Excelent, this is Lars." Your boss gestures to your 'new employee'.

"LARS!?" Your mouth drops open and your eyes widen, "H-HOW!?"

"Lars is amazing at organizing-"

"Sir, he can't even find his dignity in that room of his!" You lean on the counter, still gaping in disbelief.

"He also has a collection of unopened Galaxy Fight action figures. Now, I trust that you two can get along?" Your boss doesn't give you time to respond as he nudges Lars in your direction and retreating from the shop. You stare in disbelief before casting your eyes up at Lars.

"You bribed him...with action figures..."

"Pretty smart, huh?" A grin spreads on the boy's lips. You knot your fingers through your hair.

"Unfreakin' believable..."

* * *

It had been three weeks since you and Lars started work at the Big Donut and honestly, you felt bad for not trying to get him a job here in the first place. He was a riot!

Right before the morning rush when nobody came in, Lars would come up with commentary about the weird people who walked past the shop, your favorite being, 'Someone call the eighties, they want their glasses back'. There was never a dull moment at the shop when Lars was around. He was always saying or doing something to make you laugh and even when he wasn't trying to, he still made you smile.

He started covering for you every Thursday at rush hour so you could watch Canine Court or take a nap in the napkins. You knew that it was hard for him to do, so he only did it on Thursdays. You noticed that a lot actually; whenever your got more than one customer, Lars would usually busy himself with other tasks, such as actually cleaning for once, or going in back to do inventory. You even remember once where he had covered for you during one particular rush hour and wound up in the break room, breaking into a paper bag.

The actions began to scare you a little bit, so one day, you shut Canine Court off for the day and went to investigate. Lars had just finished with the last customer and slowly sat himself down in a chair he had left behind the counter.

"Lars?" You ask, slowly approaching the boy, who seems actually startled to hear your voice.

"S-Sadie?" He turns quickly, sighing when he realizes its you.

"What's going on...are you okay?" You pull up a chair, sitting beside him. He seems a bit more relaxed now that you're here, making you smile a bit.

"Y-yeah...yeah, I'm fine..."

"Really? You seem a bit stressed." You nudge him in the shoulder. The nervousness is replaced quickly by a scowl.

"Yes, Sadie, I'm fine!" He snaps. You quickly retreat your arm to stare at him. His eyes cast down once he realizes he has upset you, "Yeah...I'm fine..."

It would take a little more coasting before you found out the meaning behind this strange behavior; Lars had social anxiety. That's why he came to work so late most of the time. He spent a good twenty minutes convincing himself that you'd be there and that everything would be okay. When he had to handle the rush for you, he'd have to work through the anxiety and seeing all of those people. You had actually found out about it on accident.

It was a Saturday morning. The day when everyone from Beach City and everyone vacationing swarmed in, practically stepping on each other to get in line.

"Lars, can you man the register, I need to get more donuts." You called over the crowd to your co-worker across the room.

"N-No. I'll get the donuts..." He gets up quickly,pretty much running to the back. You stare in amazement, but carry on with the rush, donuts or not. Lucky for you, you run out of donuts just as the last customer walks up.

"Hey, Steven." You stand on your tip toes in order to the the boy over the counter.

"Hi, Sadie...where's Lars?" The boy looks around for his bff.

"He's in the back." You straighten up, turning to get Steven a donut. That little stinker was always getting a donut on the house from you. His eyes light up as you hand him the bag, making him forget all about the person he was looking for.

"Thank you, Sadie!" The boy waves as he rushes to the door, heading home to enjoy his snack. You wave back before sitting down in a near by chair for the first time that day. You manage to shut your eyes for a full ten seconds before realizing something.

"Hey, Lars?" You call now, sitting up. There is no response, so you get up to investigate. You barely open the door to the break room, but an intense feeling of worry spreads over you, "Lars?" You try one more time before gasping. There's the boy in question, sitting on the napkin pile with his head in his hands.

You quietly close the door before taking a few steps forward, watching him. He doesn't seem to be crying or anything, just sitting there. Deciding you could, you step closer then take a seat beside your friend, "Hey...what's wrong?" You ask, slowly putting your arm around him. He flinches as if you struck him and moves over a bit, putting a bit of space between you two.

"Lars, talk to me." You offer him a smile when he finally looks up.

"So many people..." He mumbles.

"Well, yeah, Lars, it was rush hour." You say matter-of-factually. This doesn't seem to do anything to easy the boy's nerves, but he does start to straighten up a little.

"Does...does working around a lot of people make you nervous?" You start to make a few connection. The boy slowly nods, pulling his knees up to his chest.

"Oh..." You would press him further on that, but you decide not to. You both had already had a long day, no need to get in to an emotional bought now.

"Well...don't worry. I'll handle the big stuff, okay?" You grin. He nods slowly, standing finally.

Starting that day, your third week of work, you had begun taking on the rushes for Lars, occasionally getting a break in return. You didn't mind, it would take some time before Lars got comfortable with being around others and until that time, you were perfectly content with helping him in anyway you could.

Even if it meant working harder.


	11. Coffee Care

Summer jobs should stay a summer thing. The moment school resumed and your junior year of high school began, maintaining the job was getting too hard. Reluctantly, you gave up your position at the Big Donut, taking up a part time spot with promises from your boss that as soon as summer came around, you and Lars would be rehired full time again.

"Enjoy the school year." Your boss waves as you leave the shop, not even bothering to grab the door, letting it slam shut behind you. You thrust your hands into your pocket, chewing at you chapped bottom lip. The thought of having to go to school instead of work made you want to tear your hair out. Sure, there wouldn't be as many customers now as the summer rush soon left the beach, returning to their homes.

Not that you were at all thrilled to start the school year either. Just another year of stupid teens doing stupid things. You didn't like to think badly of anyone, believing that deep down, everyone could be a good person, but jeez, some people just weighed way too heavily on your nerves.

"Hiya, Sadie." Greg Universe calls from his car wash, taking his eyes away from his work. The greeting snaps you out of your thoughts and you look up.

"Uh, hey, Mr. Universe, where's Steven?" You change your path from home to the man, looking around for the young child as you walked. Steven and Peedee always managed to spring up in the weirdest of places.

"He was here a minute a- Steven! Buddy, slow down!" You watch as the boy springs up from under neither his father's van, running in quick circles around the man. Greg hardly has time to catch himself as the hose catches his ankles, sending him to the ground. Steven laughs loudly, pressing a hand to his dad's forehead,

"Tag! You're it!"

"Steven, not right now. I need to get these cars washed." Greg unwinds himself, standing up now. Steven's usually bright smile fades a bit.

"But, dad, I'm boooooored." the child whines, hugging the once trapped leg. Greg sighs heavily,

"How about we play tag after work?"

"But that's...a whole three hours from now!"

"Why don't you go play with Sadie then?" Greg extends his arm to gesture to you, causing you to take a few steps back.

Honestly, you liked Steven. He was like a little brother to you, but right now, you really didn't want to play.

"Yeah! Come on, Sadie!" He tugs on your arm, attempting to drag you who knows where. You set your hand on top of his in an attempt to pry his little fingers from your wrist, but Greg gives you a pleading look before mouthing, 'I'll pay you.'

Groaning, but understanding the man's desperation, you nod, "Come on, Steven, lets go to the arcade..."

* * *

The boardwalk always managed to catch your attention in one way or another. There was always so much going on, like right now, smoke pouring out of Beach Citywalk Fries- WAIT, SMOKE AT BEACH CITYWALK FRIES!

"Peedee!" There is a sound of coughing and sputtering as Mr. Fryman leans out the shop, fanning the smoke away from his mouth and nose. His youngest son flees from the smoke, trying desperately to clear the smoke.

"S-sorry, dad, I just wanted to help!" The boy is completely beside himself, acting as though the whole building was on fire.

"Don't worry about it, sport, it's only a few burnt potatoes, how about you go play awhile?" The father smiles a bit.

"PEEDEE!" Steven yells in delight, leaving your side to tackle the boy.

"AH! Oh! Hey, Steven!" Peedee's smile immediately returns to his face, dusting himself off.

"Peedee, Peedee, Peedee,"

"Yes, yes, yes?"

"Want to come to the arcade with me and Sadie?" Steven turns, grasping your hand in an iron death grip. The other boy's face lights up and before you know it, you are being dragged by both hands to the arcade.

* * *

Four hours...you had just spent four hours playing quarter games with two of the most hyper males you would ever come to know! They had dragged you in all directions, finding some new game everywhere they looked despite having been into the place multiple times before. You only had five dollars left out of the forty you had come in with (having been informed two seconds too late that neither boy had brought change with them). You are just about to call it a day when Steven tugs on your sleeve,

"Sadie, I'm hungry."

"Yeah, me too!" Peedee grips your other sleeve, tugging just as hard. Had both your hands been free, you would have run your fingers through your hair to ease the migraine that began to form...or dial 911 for help...or kill Greg and Mr. Fryman...which ever came first...

Knowing that the demand for your attention would not stop until the boys were fed, you simply chewed your lip and looked up, "Well...what do you two want to eat?"

Grins spread across their faces and the answer comes forward, "Doughnuts!"

* * *

Never had you know a walk to the Big Donut to be so long in your entire life. Steven and Peedee kept stopping to pick up rocks, tie their shoes (They didn't even have laces!) and chase each other around the boardwalk while playing tag. By the time the Big Donut was in sight, you were ready to drop to your knees and crawl there. The boys had busted through the door before you and had you not looked up, the pane of glass would have whacked you in the face. You use your shoulder to prop it open as you walked in, looking up to make sure the boys were in view.

Much to your surprise, you see another one of your boys there.

"Lars? What are you doing here?" You ask, approaching the counter. The red-head is already getting the boys' doughnuts, trying to finish his job as quickly as possible.

"Someone called off so I had to come in. On a Saturday, too, how lame is that?" He more so tosses the bag to Steven and Peedee, who immediately dig in.

"How much?" You ask, momentarily forgetting the price of the very donuts you had spent selling all summer long.

"four ninety-five." Lars leans on his hand, opening the register. You dig in to your pockets, finding the crumpled up bill and tossing it on to the counter. The boy in front of you raises an eyebrow as he picks the currency up.

"What's the matter, player two? You look like you skipped out on coffee this morning." Lars smirks, knowing far to well that the only time you ever missed out on coffee was when you weren't able to get your hands on it. You look up, casting a glare, but adding a sigh to ease your nerves.

"I've been babysitting these two all day...I'm just a little tired."

"Well...why don't you buy coffee then?" Lars pushes off of his hand, going to sit in the chair he usually left behind the counter.

"Can't...that was the last of my money...thanks for the doughnuts..." You turn to find a table, your legs feeling like they're about to give out. You trudge across the store, dropping in to a chair beside Peedee and closing your eyes.

"Hey, Player Two." You groan, looking up enough that you could see, only bothering to open one eye. A Styrofoam cup is a few inches from your face and for nearly a minute, you believe its all just a dream. However, the coffee is set before you, and the strong smell of the drink of the gods is enough to convince you otherwise.

"Lars, I told you, I don't have the money for this." You go to push it back, but the boy insists.

"Don't worry about it, Sadie...it's on me."


	12. My Fair Hair

In the time you had known Lars, there was one thing that always stood out to you about him. Since you had met him three years ago, the kids always had a mop of curly red hair that fell into his eyes, putting up a curtain between the two of you.

It always made you laugh the way his hair would curl in random directions, sometimes, you even found yourself trying to straighten the curls with the tip of your pencil in the middle of geometry.

Lars never failed to snatch the pencil and store it away in his backpack (however, he always returned them by the end of the school day) before returning to his daily nap in the desk in front of you.

Man did you love that hair. The color always looked so amazing to you. It was something you would have wanted for your own hair color had you not been born a blonde (not that you didn't like your hair or anything, it just wasn't an awesome red color). You were honestly stunned that no one else seemed to like it as much as you did; not even Lars.

From what you knew, Lars despised his hair. Apparently, curly hair wasn't cool and the color had just made it all the more stupid. People apparently viewed Lars as a loser because of it (seriously, no one did, but there was really no point in trying to change the boy's mind. He was dead set on this idea). He was always trying to straighten the hair just as much as you had found yourself doing, by constantly wetting it down with water from the drinking fountain or attempting to spike it up with an obscene amount of hair products (not even you owned that many bottle of hair gel and hair spray! It should be a crime!)

Despite all this, the hair at the top of the boy's head always sprang back up, sometimes forming more of an afro than a mop. Theirritation with his own hair began to get the better of Lars, causing him to create some of the craziest plans to cut or dye his hair.

Today, he had, by far, the craziest plan of all.

"I'm thinking of just getting a buzz cut." He commented one day while returning your pencil.

"What?" You looked up from depositing the pencil into your backpack. What the hell was he talking about? He was just joking, right?

"Yeah, Buck just got it cut like that. Looks pretty rad, actually." He runs his fingers through his own mop of hair. You roll your eyes,

"You might as well get a mohawk." You sling your backpack over your shoulder, reaching for the sweatshirt in your locker.

"That ain't a bad idea..." The boy leans against the locker beside yours, deep in thought now.

"Lars, I was just kidd-"

"You're a genius, player two!" You look up just in time to see the sixteen year old sprinting from the school. All you can do at this point is watch his disappearing figure, wondering why you even opened your mouth.

"This has got to be his dumbest idea yet..." You comment, slamming your locker door shut.

"Uh, actually Sadie..." You look up just in time to see Kiki had been standing behind your locker door. It wasn't uncommon for your friend to meet you and Lars after school, usually accompanied by Ronaldo, most likely offering to treat everyone to pizza.

"What?" You groan, leaning back against your locker. You already knew what she had to say, which just made you slam your head against the metal.

"I think that was your dumb idea..."

* * *

"He's not actually going to do it." You conclude, grabbing another slice of pizza. Ronaldo is typing away on his laptop as Kiki clears plates from the table.

"I dunno, Sadie, he's done some pretty crazy things before." Kiki pauses, recalling an event, "Like that time he got gauges..."

"Or wore bracelets up to his elbows." Ronaldo looks up from his laptop, deciding to add his two cents, "Or that one time-"

"Okay, so he's done some pretty stupid stuff and we could probably spend all day talking about it-"

"Nah, we would probably spend a few days." Ronaldo corrects,

"At least week."

"Okay! The point is, he woul-"

"Oh...he would..." Kiki's eyes are now turned to the front door, watching in awe as the boy you all just so happen to be talking about walks in. Ronaldo is already attempting to snap a pic for his blog by the time you look up,

"What the hell did you do!?" You spring from your seat, watching Lars walk through the door. He had his hood pulled up over his eyes in an attempt to cover whatever mistake he had most likely made.

"Hey, quit making such a big deal about it." He says in a hushed , taking his usual seat beside you.

"Lars, what did you do?" You fold your arms, shooting a glare at the boy. He squirms under your gaze,

"Uh...okay...but you can't laugh." He tries to add a bit of a growl to his voice, but you aren't buying it.

"How bad could it be?" Kiki offers him a bit of comfort. He shrugs and Ronaldo has his camera ready. The hood fall away and the sight you are all met with was one that actually confused you all.

Lars' hair had been shaved in to a mohawk, just like he had said, however, the curls were there to stay. If anything, they curled up more than ever now that some weight had been removed.

None of you really knew what to think of it. It didnt...look bad or anything, far from actually, and it didn't look rediculous either. It actually looked kind of cute.

"Well...what do you think of it?" You lean on the palm of your hand, looking at the new hair-do from all angles.

"I-"

"Hey, rad hair, Lars." Jenny entered the shop, immediately impressed. Lars tenses up immediately, letting a hand rub awkwardly at the back of his neck,

"Uh, thanks. J-just tryin' something different, ya know?"

"Totally. It looks great." Jenny snags a slice of pizza before making her way to the back of the shop. Lars watches her go before turning back to you,

"See, this hair makes me a total babe magnet."

"Yup..." You slowly let your arms fold, allowing you a place to bury your face, "Total babe magnet."

A soft blush spreads across your face. Damn, did you love that hair.


	13. Lunch Bunch

Working from the freaking ass crack of dawn till sunset was enough to have anyone run around like a chicken with its head cut off after only a few hours, but you and Lars were determined to do so! You were had both graduated high school only three weeks earlier and you were ready to take on the world! And by that, you meant 'wake up every morning at five in the am and go work at the Big Donut until the sun goes down'.

Yeah...that was about it, really.

Both of you were working at least four times a week at varying hours, though occasionally, Lars would leave early. At least he got there ninety-nine point nine percent on time in the mornings...Funny story about that actually.

Lars was in no way a morning person. It was actually scary how, before ten in the morning and two cups of coffee, the guy was a completely different person.

From what you knew, Lars' parents were out of town, something they started doing a lot once Lars turned thirteen (and once they were sure you'd see him at least once while they were gone), meaning they weren't home most of the time.

With his dad's new job and his mom's total need to travel for no reason, Lars was home alone a lot of the time you had known him.

Well, you shouldn't say alone, really, that wasn't at all true. He was always over at your house, sitting patiently in the kitchen while your mom made dinner.

You almost had to laugh as you watched him, staring like a young child, as your mom boiled water for pasta.

"Can I help?" He finally asked, getting up to stand beside your mother. She'd smile and take half a step to the left.

It was usually at this point that you would remember something or another you had to do (usually, it was just an excuse to go upstairs and watch Canine Court, not that anyone noticed your absents) and you would head upstairs, usually staying up there until dinner was served.

This summer was much different though, where, as an adult, Lars felt some need to stop relying on your mother for dinner and wouldn't come over to eat nearly as much as he used to. He had learned a lot from cooking with your mom, so you were confident that he would be just fine alone. You felt the same way, ready to detach yourself from your mother's support as far as food goes (you still didn't make enough to put a roof over your own head). Not that it mattered much to you, still living at home and all, it was still walking distance from work, a huge plus for you.

"Sadie, don't forget your lunch." You mother would call every morning as you hopped down the flight of stairs that connected your room to the main floor.

"Mom, I'm not a kid anymore, I don't need you to make me lunch." You'd shoot back, snagging an apple from the counter as you left.

Your mother would watch with a dejected look on her face, but that doesn't mean she wouldn't get her way at some point.

* * *

"Sadie, You left your lunch at home." Lars finally makes his appearance at work, ten minutes late obviously, tossing the brown paper bang onto the table. A sun is sketched onto the bag, your name written in a fancy cursive.

"Mom seriously made you bring this?" You pick up the sack to examine it. Lars takes his seat behind the counter, determined to catch a few more blinks before the morning rush arrives.

"She didn't 'make' me. You left it on the counter, so I brought it in." Lars is in the midst of putting on his head phones when you snap your head up.

"What were you doing at my house?" You ask quizzically. Lars only stares at a poster on the wall beside you, as if you avoid any suspicion.

"Like you said, your mom made me bring it..."

"Oh really now?" You lean an elbow on the counter, casting the male a know-all look. He sends a scowl right back, kicking his legs up on to the counter, avoiding the question all together. You rolled your eyes, making your way over to the refrigerator. You push a few items aside on a bottom shelf and set it in there. That one sack would soon be joined by twenty as every morning, Lars would walk in with a new bag of 'forgotten' foods, you'd question him, and he'd promptly fall asleep in the break room.

This would go on for nearly two months before your finally figure him out.

It was a warm day in August, a day you'd love to some how catch in a bottle and keep forever. A day that had you so distracted, you had put on shorts instead of jeans, intending for the warm summer day to hug your legs. Alas, this broke the work dress code, something you realize all of fifteen minutes upon arrival to your job.

You quietly cursed to yourself, searching your work locker for another pair of jeans, but nothing could be found aside from an old bag of Doritos and, for some reason, a package of My Little Pony Stickers.

"Man...should really get a nice dry erase board..." You comment, attempting to lighten your own mood as you head for the open door. You still had at least another hour before Steven showed up, giving you just enough time to go home and change...if you ran.

And so you did. Knee to freakin' chest as you barreled up the streets, reaching your house in five minutes in what would have take you ten minutes.

"Mom, I need to change!" You shouted an explanation to your mother, but stopped dead in your tracks. You're certain you had heard talking.

"No, not-"

"Ha! Okay-"

"Don't-"

Well...that was weird...who would be here this early?

Questions needed answers and answers weren't just going to show up, so you had gone to investigate.

"Is it done yet?"

The sight before you was crazy. There was Lars, in your kitchen, shoes kicked off, staring innocently at a pan containing, what would soon be, a omlette.

"Perfect, Lars, I think you finally got this one." Your mom stands, joining the teenager at the stove. He smiles a bit to himself, putting the food onto a plate.

"Do I have time to actually eat it?" He glances up at the clock, reaching for a bottle of hot sauce.

"You may be a bit late, but I think it'll be okay. I'd much rather you eat." She smiles, pouring herself a cup of coffee and joining the boy at the table.

While the two had breakfast, you marched yourself upstairs, changing while you had the time to do so. You shimmied into a random pair of pants you had found on the floor and was just about to walk back downstairs, but stopped. Lars was by the front door now, attempting to put his shoes back on his feet.

"Remember to give Sadie her lunch." Your mom smiles, handing the boy the bag with one hand, resting her free hand on his shoulder.

"I will. Uh...thanks for, um, breakfast." He offers a small grin, almost bashfully, actually. Your mother kisses him on the cheek and he turns toward the door.

"Will you be here for dinner? Are your parents home yet?"

"Huh? Oh...yeah..yeah I will be...they won't be back for another week..." Lars only has time to answer as he leaves out the front door, about to be two minutes late for work.

It's at this moment, at the top of your stairs, that you realize something. Lars didn't have a mom who would make him lunch every day like you did. He had to wake himself up in the morning, make his own food, and come home to no one.

All at once, you felt bad for not taking your lunches in with you...sure, you wouldn't eat them because you were an adult now and didn't need your mom to make your lunches anymore, but hey...didn't hurt to take them, right?...

That night, you made sure to talk to Lars as much as possible during dinner. And since that morning, you'd stay behind at home just a little longer, just to have breakfast with him and your mom.


	14. Down With The Sickness

No one liked colds, you knew that. No one liked fevers either. These were all things you could sympathize with, really, you could. A bad attitude.

Nope. That right there, was were you drew the line.

It was later October, the fall after you graduated, and the sniffles started occurring all around Beach City. You made sure (repeatedly) to have tissues shoved in your pocket and a couple of quarts of hand sanitizer on handy. You also made sure to carry wet wipes and disinfectant spray around like the citizens around you were carrying the black plague.

"Here's your change, sir." You are certain to stand at arms length and you dropped the coins into the customer's hand. He gives you a strange look as he pockets the change as walks away. You smile a bit as the door closes behind him, signaling that you and Lars may now close up.

Speaking of Lars...where was he?

"Hey, Lars," You call behind you as you go to disinfect the door knob, "Time to close up." You flip the closed sign to open and turn around just in time to see- no one?

"Did he leave already?" You try to think back to seeing the boy earlier that day. He had said around noon that he was going to go on break...you hadn't seen him after that. Lucky for you, that meant he was most likely still here, meaning you would still be able to scold him.

You replace all emotions in your body with irritation and anger and prepare to raise hell with the boy. However, all of that anger leaves you the moment your hand touches the door knob to the break room.

A small cough from just behind the door has you running for the hand sanitizer and wet wipes.

* * *

Now fully suited to meet the sick-o behind the door (you even went as far to wear a pair of rubber gloves) you reach for the door again, "Lars, where have you been all day, we're about to-"

Again, all the anger drains from you when you look into the room to see the missing teenager fast asleep on top of the stack of napkins in the corner. Judging by the fact that he was actually sleeping on the napkins instead of a chair and using your jacket as a blanket, something was definitely wrong.

"Uh...Lars?" You try again, stepping into the room this time. Usually irritated by interruption, the boy actually makes no effort to show and sort of anger toward you. He simply rolls over to look at you, eyes half closed against the bright light of the break room.

"Are you okay?" With lack of better judgment, you have stepped forward, taking a seat on top of the napkins beside the boy. He groans, tugging your jacket over his head.

"I'm gonna need that back." You tug at the corner of the jacket, irritation coming back to you. Lars lets it go without much of a fight, rolling back onto his side to shield his eyes from the light. It's at this moment that you realize the boy is actually shivering. Sure, it was late fall, but it wasn't that cold in the Big Donut. You had actually turned the air conditioner off yesterday.

"Are you cold?" You leaned over, placing a hand on Lars' shoulder. Much to your surprise, the shoulder under your hand is considerably warm.

"Are you feeling okay?" You finally asking, moving your hand from Lars' shoulder to his forehead. This action alone was enough to convince you, but sudden coughing fit enforces this.

"Come on," you help your friend sit up, keeping a hand on his back to keep him from falling on you, "Lets get you home."

* * *

To be completely honest, you knew all too well that you were NOT going to make it to Lars' house. The boy stumbled around like he was drunk, constantly falling back on you. Supporting your friend was no problem, as he only weighed, what, like 80 pounds? The real problem was keeping him coherent long enough to even get out of the Big Donut. In the end, though, you managed to get him out the front door...and that was it.

Really. That was as far as you were getting him. The boy leaned against the building and slept there like it was a cloud blessed by heavenly angels.

"Crap!" You groaned, gripping a lock of hair in your fingers, for some reason gaining the false impression that thus would help the situation in some way. But alas, it would not. After about four minutes of contemplating whether or not you should steal a wagon or simply drag your sleeping friend up the hill where Steven and the Gems resided, you found yourself calling your mom, then waiting the minute and a half for her mini-van to pull up in front of the shop.

* * *

"Any answer?" You mother has picked Lars up in one arm while unlocking the door to your house with the other. You lean against the porch railing, ending the 'call' on your cellphone.

"Nope." You jam the phone back into your pocket straightening up, "I don't think they're back yet."

Just your luck. Lars has a fever and his parents aren't home. Great, just fantastic.

"Well, looks like he's just gonna have to stay here a while." You mother finally gets the front door open, nudging it open with her hip to get inside. Had she been looking at you, she would have seen the face of true horror.

You had spent most of your paycheck buying disinfectant spray alone and now you had an actual sick person in your home! AND THAT PERSON JUST SO HAPPENED TO BE LARS!?

"Hey, mom, I'm gonna go shower, okay?" You called as you fled up the stairs.

"Okay, Sadie, just leave your work shirt in the hamper, I'll w-"

"That won't be needed!" You call back. Man, why was your mom always trying to make you feel like a kid?

* * *

"Sadie, I'm going to go pick up some soup, think you can watch Lars for an hour without killing him?" Your mother calls up the stairs, distracting you from washing your hands a second time after taking a shower.

"Uh...yeah...sure..." You call back, turning the water off with your elbow, then scrubbing that with a wet wipe. You dry your own hands on your 'fresh from the dryer' jeans and head downstairs. You mother has already left by the time you get down there. A quick peak into the living room lets you know that Lars is fast asleep ion the couch. His blanket is around his waist so his body shivers lightly.

"Well..sucks for him." You mumble to yourself, having some hilarious cat videos to catch up on. You figure your ill friend would be done for awhile, knowing far too well how much he usually sleeps, so you turn to head back upstairs. Your foot hasn't even touch the first step linking the floor to your room when a groan hits your ears.

"S-Sadie?" A weakened voice tries to call to you but is interrupted by a sickening, germ spreading cough, the very kind that makes your skin crawl.

"Y-yes?" You call back against your better judgement.

"C-can y-you fix m-my blanket?" Lars' voice actually sounds sick. Like, not the regular kind of sick where the person just sounds like they woke up from the most beautiful nap in history and can be easily confused as being a sleepy voice, no. Just no. This voice contains the freaking plague in it.

"uh..." You actually have to think about this one. Do you help your friend in need and risk getting sick or do you head for your room and curl up with a bottle of hand sanitizer...what to do, what to do...

* * *

"Alright. I think we go it this time." You hold the very end of the a broom stick, having already accidentally whacked Lars in the nose, head, and arm with it in an attempt to move the blanket. Lars watches you lazily with one eye open, not seeming at all phased by your recent broom attacks.

"There." You finally did it! The blanket is pulled up to the boy's shoulder and you can finally lea-

"S-sadie..."

Oh crap...why is he getting up...

"I don't..."

Okay, if he could just back up a little bit, that'd be great-

"Feel.."

Oh crap, you knew that look well. Any other self respecting person would have gotten out of the way, but you were too busy thinking about the number of germs that were probably surrounding you right this second.

And that was how you wound up with vomit all over your front.

* * *

"S-sorry..." Lars mumbles as you finally emerge from your hour and a half shower. He's curled up in a ball outside of your bathroom, almost resembling a kicked puppy.

"Don't worry about it." You tie the front of your robe closed, and reach up to adjust the towel wrapped around your hair. Lars goes back to his curled up position, most likely falling asleep. You stare at the otherwise pathetic sight before giggling.

"Are you really going to sleep on the floor?" You nudge the boy with a toe. He groans, rolling away from your foot.

"Wow, you must be really sick." You lower your foot, actually beginning to feel bad for the boy. Figuring that only a few seconds of exposure wouldn't hurt you much, you grab Lars, helping him stand. The action takes a few seconds to catch up with your friend and he has to use the wall to help himself stand. You help him back down the stairs and into the living room.

"Just sleep, okay?" You grab the blanket, pulling it up to his shoulders.

"T-thanks, Sadie..."

"Anytime...need anything else?" You fold your arms, already planning your disinfecting regimen.

"Maybe some soup?"

And wouldn't you know it...Your mom had missed a can of soup in the pantry.

* * *

The next morning, you woke up with your whole body feeling like it had been hit by a bus. Your head ached, your arms and legs were numb, and your nose ran like a faucet.

"LARS!" You regret your anger immediately as your own voice makes your head ache worse.

The boy, still groggy from his own illness, his up the stairs in an instant, having taken them two at a time, "What?"

"You got me sick!" You argue weakly, but a cough destroys your words.

"That's great, actually. Now I can sit next to you again," Much to your surprise, Lars actually climbs onto your bed, getting comfortable, "Your bed is way more comfortable than the couch anyway."

"Shut up. Now you have to take care of me!" You aim a weak kick for the boy's side.

"Nuh huh, I'm still sick." Lars adds in a cough, just to further prove his point. You roll your eyes, rolling on to your side, "You know what would be great right now..."

You look up quizzically, "No, what?"

"Some soup."

"Yeah...soup would be good...I ain't making it, though." You sniffle, reaching for a tissue beside your bed.

"Well...who will then..."

"Hm..."

Maybe the sick was causing some sort of telepathic connection, because next thing you know you're both shouting in unison.

"MOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!"

"AH! My head." You groan, tossing an arm over your head, but then something occurs to you, "Did you just call my mom 'mom'?"

"Uh...it's this flu, man, I don't even know what I'm saying. Now quit talking so much, you're just going to get worse." Lars curls back up and all you can do is stare.

Maybe it was just the illness, but that day, you had let the boy sleep at the end of your bed that night.

And as soon as you were both feeling better, you promptly kicked him out of your room.


	15. Island Discoveries

It was safe to say that after your little 'island adventure' two weeks ago, things had been a little awkward between you and Lars...and by that, you meant really freaking awkward.

He wouldn't say a word to you, usually picking another song on his iPod conveniently when you had something to say.

"Listen, Lars-" You'd try to break in when you knew there was a pause in the music, but the boy just continued to ignore you, pocketing the device, and walking away, usually to sweep the floors or at least try to before getting lost in the guitar solos.

He was happy now, though. You noticed he would come in early now, sometimes even earlier than you, to open the store. The first week back home he had been quiet and conserved, usually lost in some thought you couldn't pin-point.

He would, however, distract himself with some type of work, again, usually sweeping around the shop, avoiding eye contact with whoever came in.

You began to notice these changes in him now, but it never really stood out to you until Steven had come running in to return your money for the Watermelon Steven you bought. Expecting your friend to scold the kid for running and receiving absolutely nothing was just plain weird.

The latest change you noticed was the addition of the IPod.

You hadn't seen that thing in years, the last time being four year ago when Lars thought that Fall Out Boy was the, quote on quote, 'shit'.

Whatever it was he was listening to now was apparently making him happy as he rocked out around the break room, using the broom that aided him in work as a guitar.

You never pegged Lars as one to listen to heavy metal, but judging by the excessive head banging, you would easily be convinced otherwise.

Its getting late and Steven has yet to decided what he would like for dinner today. Honestly, sometimes you just wanted to drag the kid home with you and serve him dinner so he didn't have to eat donuts all the time (and so you could clock out early) but Steven always insisted. He said he couldn't tip you when he was at your house, but appreciated the offer. He'd also comment on how he doubted Lars would be there and dinner wouldn't feel the same without him scraping gum off from under the tables.

"Well you kids better hurry up, Lars and I have to-"

As if on cue, the boy mentioned comes on in, rocking out again to whatever music it was he had been listening to, donut in hand.

Now this was really weird. Did he even realize Steven was here? Or that people could, like, actually see him dancing like that.

Nope. Not once did his eyes even open as he left the building.

"I have to close up shop." You correct, leaning on the counter.

'Same ol' Lars.' You think, leaning on your elbows while Steven chooses a meal.

(line)

Ah, five am. The perfect time to begin the work day. You're dressed in your work uniform and preparing to leave when there is a knock at your front door.

"Just a minute!" You call, zipping up your jacket and heading to the door. You go through the three locks that keep the door shut before opening it slowly.

Lars is leaning against the porch railing, eyes shut as he nods in time with whatever song he has on now (you'll later discover it to be 'Wake Me Up When September Ends' by Green Day) If you hadn't known Lars at all, you would have assumed that someone else had knocked, but an eye opens, making sure that whoever had just stepped out was the person he had been looking for.

Once convinced, the red-head pushes off of the railing, standing himself up. He steps down the porch steps, jumping the last two and heading down your front lawn to the side walk.

He doesn't turn around to make sure you're following, most likely knowing that you already were just two steps behind him.

You maintain those two steps behind, actually taking a moment to watch the boy. He looked so...wrong.

This wasn't like him at all.

The Lars you knew would never be up this early. He wouldn't be awake for another three hours most days and he defiantly wouldn't be listening to Green Day.

He wouldn't be rocking out to music, being actually blissfully unaware that he was even being watched by anyone who didn't even really care to see what it was that he was doing.

He wouldn't be so calm about Steven running in or actually work for that matter!

Then again...the Lars you knew wasn't one you really wanted to know anyway.

It wasn't that you didn't like Lars before this, no, not at all, it was just...you began to realize that...he wasn't happy before.

Before, you had tried to help him figure himself out, make himself happy, and get over his anxiety...he hadn't talked to you after your last attempt.

In that time...he had figured it out on his own.

He was happy now and he had done it all by himself once you took a step back and let him.

Your thoughts are broken by a very anxious Steven, holding a VHS tape to his chest.

Jamming the key into the door lock, you head inside quickly. You had other things to worry about today.


	16. Winner Dinner

Well, today was business as usual; You tended to the counter while Lars restocked the refrigerator.

"Why the hell are refrigerators so damn cold!?" The guy more or less screams, slamming the door shut as he finishes putting the rest of your lunches away

"Did you seriously just ask that." You quirk an eyebrow, adding a bit of a smirk to you glance. Lars rolls his eyes, sending a poisons glare in your direction. As always, he isn't in the mood for your sass, but damn it, you were gonna give it to him anyway.

"What's next? Why is the sun on fire?" You laugh at your own joke, resting your cheek in the palm of your hand.

"Ha ha, very funny. You should do stand-up." He shoots back, picking up another box, this one containing coffee grounds, to add to the shelves.

"You know what...I will!" You push off of the counter, a look of determination on your face. The look of agony on Lars' face is enough to make you laugh until you cried, but you decided to give him a bit of sympathy today.

"Whatever. Can work just be over already?" Lars tosses a bag of coffee on to the counter, then watches with hilarious horror as is bounces off the shelf and falls to the floor in an epic display of coffee grounds scattered on the floor, "Yup...that's it...I'm done." He sets the box back down and throws his hands up in defeat, spinning on his heels to head back to the break room.

"Oh no, you don't! I cleaned up the last mess." You jump to your feet, beating the male to the door. You barricade it shut with your short stature, in which Lars is defenseless to.

"Fine," he growls, reaching for the broom beside the door, "But you owe me." He turns back around and attempts to clean up the spilled grounds, which for some reason, presented to be more of a challenge to him then it should be.

He'd sweep the spill into a nice little pile before attempting to sweep it into a dustpan. Though most of the mess wound up in the pan, grounds fell out of the sides or refused to go in.

"Fuck this. Let's just close up already."

"We still have another fifteen minutes, besides, Steven hasn't come in yet." You remind him, leaning back on the counter. He groans again, going back to sweeping. You always had him pegged when it came to Steven. Though he usually seemed generally annoyed with the boy, he wasn't about to let him go without dinner.

Even if it meant having to stay just a tad longer.

The second Steven walked in was when Lars would make a break for it, but you knew all too well that he'd be staying today once you told him what you needed to.

"Mom is making spaghetti tonight." You picked at your finger nails, well, whatever you hadn't bitten away with your stupid habit. The dust pan is dropped and Lars runs for the counter, getting Steven's usual order into a bag and waiting now.

"I swear to everything, if I miss spaghetti night again, I'm gonna throw Steven into the ocean." He leans on his hand with a slight fury in his voice. This just causes your laughter to reemerge. adding to the boy's anger.

"Don't worry, mom said she'll leave it in the fridge if we're late." You stretch your arms above your head, adding in a yawn now. Yeah...maybe Steven should hurry up just a bit.

"Whatever, it's gonna be cold by the time we get there anyway." Lars sighs in defeat, slumping over the counter.

"Lars, we own a microwave." You roll your eyes, typing random numbers into the cash register.

"It doesn't taste the same." He growled at you, almost as if you had offended him in some way. You hold a hand up in defeat, pushing closed the register you had opened out of boredom.

"What's taking so long!?" Lars near screamed after only twelve seconds of waiting, causing you to jump.

"Lars, relax, Steven still has ten minutes."

"No, you relax, I'm gonna go-"

"Oh no you aren't! You're gonna eat my spaghetti, too!"

"No, I'm not!"

"You did last time!"

"So? I was hungry and you were taking too long in the bathroom!"

"I was taking a shower!"

"Whatever. You should have been eating dinner with us anyway." Lars folds his arms, not wanting to carry the argument out any further. You rolled your eyes and turned your attention back to the register.

"Steven still has three minutes." You remind you friend, attempting to calm him down. Lars glares in you direction before standing.

He punches the side of the register with one hand, using his other hand to dig through his pocket.

"That's it!" He counts out a dollar and fifty cents in his palm before tossing it into the register. He grabs the premade bag and heads back to the break room. He reemerges with his jacket and advances toward the door.

"Lars, he still has a min-!"

"No, he doesn't, we're closed!" Lars argues back, flipping the 'open' sign to 'closed'

"That's not fair!" You jumped over the counter, prepared to chase the kid down. As always, he's faster than you and the door is slammed in your face. You recover quickly, running back to the break room to get your jacket and lock the doors before running back outside, looking left, then right, trying to find Lars.

Much to your surprise, he is actually still within view. You stood back and watched as he headed up to Steven's front door, donut bag still in hand. Steven opens the door, eagerly running to his favorite jerk, already preparing to high five him.

Again to your surprise, Lars complies, actually laughing a bit at the odd gesture before handing Steven his donut. The boy's eyes light up when he sees the donuts, thanking Lars more times than he probably needed to.

"Sorry I was late, I was playing the new Duck, Duck, Whack game." Steven explains in between bites. Lars only shakes his head,

"Man, those games are so lame. Anyway, Sadie's mom made dinner tonight, so-"

"Oh! Is tonight grilled cheese night?"

"Spaghetti night."

"Well I won't keep you." Steven goes to close the door, still smiling big, "Thanks for the donuts!"

"No problem," Lars calls back, already heading back toward you. You can't help but smile softly,

"Aw, Lars, that was so swee-"

"No time!" Lars grabs you by the arm and drags you behind him, "Spaghetti night, remember!"


	17. Broken

Things hadn't been the same since your adventure at the light house. Lars continued to insist that his fight with Ronaldo so long ago didn't matter at all, but you knew it did. If your memory served you, you had met Lars shortly after that fight. You knew what he had been like then.

Quiet, conserved, lonely, the list seriously could go on and on.

You never asked him who the boy in the picture on his desk was when you finally did get around to making it to your new friend's house. He did, however, catch you staring at it.

"Come on, Sadie, let's go outside." He'd tug you away from the desk, breaking your trail of thought.

"What? But, Lars, it's raining." You'd try to reason, but the boy would have none of it, usually tossing a throwaway rain poncho at you and insisting that this was the perfect time to catch worms. You'd comply, though entirely confused, usually being the one to suggest worms as Lars was completely grossed out by them.

Eventually, the picture left your friend's desk, replaced by one of you, and then nothing at all. The desk itself had lost one screw too many and Lars no longer had a use for it, opting to write on his nightstand than take up space with an actual desk dedicated to nothing.

It wasn't until the day that you were helping your friend move the desk from his second story bedroom that you actually began to think about the picture you had wondered about all these years.

You knew the boy in the picture, or at least you thought you did. He looked familiar enough to the point that you thought that maybe if you stared at the picture long enough, you would remember his name. However, you hadn't seen that old picture in over three years, so the likelihood of that was pretty low.

"Sadie, be careful! You're end is slipping!" Lars yells angrily, adjusting his side of the desk to keep it from scraping the stairs. You head snaps up as you are torn from your thoughts,

"What? Oh! Sorry." You muttered, doing your best to lift the desk as high as you felt necessary. Lars only shakes his head, brushing off your apology and takes another step down the stairs. The step causes the desk to push you backward so you let go of it in an attempt to grab the railing. The desk falls to the left, sending one of its drawers down the steps.

"Sadie! Be careful!" Lars scolds, pushing the other two drawers back in to place. As the third drawer tumbles to the bottom step, a single slip of paper flutters down beside it.

"What's this?" You ask, letting go of the desk and following the drawer. Both paper and drawer settle on the carpet beneath you, allowing you to easily pluck up the paper.

Er, picture.

It had been years since you had seen it, so you don't recognize it right away, but once you have a moment to stare at it, the picture finally clicks in your mind.

"Lars...the kid in the picture...he looks familiar..."

"No he doesn't!" Lars snaps quickly, attempting to refrain from letting the desk tumble down the stairs.

"Yes he does, he looks kind of like Ronal-" A horrific crash is heard behind you and you hardly have time to jump out of the way as the desk descends, Lars jumps over the handrail as it does.

"No, it doesn't!" He yells over the sound of a breaking desk, grabbing the photo from your grasp. The room has long since gone quiet and your attention leaves the frazzled boy to the now completely broken desk only a foot away from the both of you.


	18. Just Like In The Movies

Boyfriends were something that, well, you didn't know much about. You really didn't. To you, the male person was a completely different species, sent to earth to confuse the hell out of their female counterpart.

They were weird, gross, annoying, loud, and, well...they were boys! They were even physically different from you!

Take your friend, Lars, for example. He was thin, lanky, awkward, tall, meanwhile you were short, a little on the chubby side, and tried avoiding the awkward as much as possible. However, none of this stopped you from actually wanting to find a boyfriend.

You had always seen in the movies that the boys cherished the girls, loving them unconditionally, risking their lives to save them, and for some odd reason, kiss them in the rain.

Now that part was just weird.

Regardless, you still wanted a man in your life and though you had that for about a month last summer when you were only seventeen, you quickly discovered your short term boyfriend was cheating on you with a girl visiting from Lake Place. It had hurt you deeply as the moment you had found out, he had begun to call you names. Fat, Stupid, Ugly, the list just went on and on. You wanted to be alone for days after this, sitting in your room under your bed covers, crying quietly into a pillow.

"Sadie, come on, it's been three days." A familiar voice calls up the stairs, but this time, it was not your mother, who had been trying to coax you out of your room earlier with French toasts. No, this voice was a lot different. It was deep, held hints of irritation, and was defiantly familiar. However, it was no one you wanted to hear from.

"Go away, Lars!" You yelled back before shoving your pillow over your head to muffle the tears that kept falling. Now, you had known Lars for quite sometime now and knew that he was not one to be persistent. or one to gladly hike up the stairs to your bedroom, usually more content with staying in the kitchen unless video games were being offered. You were almost certain that your one shrill cry would cause him to turn on his heels and leave, however, this was not the case.

"Sadie, come on." His voice sounds closer than it was before, followed by foot steps and a grind of the door knob. Your bedroom door glides open despite the chair you had set in place as a barricade, almost like whoever open the door was meant to be in there.

"Jeez, Sade, it's really dark in here." You can see Lars looking about your room through a hole you had made in your blanket fort. He takes a careful step forward, followed by three more before he is at your window, fumbling to get the shade open. Summer light pours in through the open window, casting shadows onto the mess you had let your room become. Unfortunately, it also casts a shadow onto you and the mess you had become. Lars plucks up the edge of your blanket and despite your best effort to keep him away, easily peels in back, revealing you to be in your old monkey pajamas and hair that had gone unwashed for the past three days. You could hardly find it in yourself to roll over, knowing your face was probably an even worse scene than the rest of you.

However, you hardly have time to even look up as a body is thrown down beside you, causing your bed to sink in on one side. Lars kicks off his shoes and tucks his arms behind his head, "Is this what we're doing today?" He looks over at you with the upmost curiosity, almost like he seriously believed that nothing had been wrong and you simply wanted to rest today.

"What? No!" You roll onto your side, forgetting completely about your face. Not that it mattered, he probably knew you had been crying anyway.

"Then why have you been in bed all day." Lars stretches out his long, awkward limbs. You tried to curl up more in an attempt to seem smaller, but it really wouldn't benefit you in any way. Lars was set on getting you out of bed, though you had thought most boy strived to get girls in it.

"It just...it hurt..." You mumble, looking back up at your friend. Much to your surprise, he's still looking at you and appears to be actually listening to you.

"Yeah...I heard what he said...it's not true you know..." Lars sat up a bit, grabbing the blanket back from the corner of your bed to curl up in, apparently bothered by the temperature your mother had the air conditioner set on.

"What? Of course it was true." You sat up more, staring at him like he was crazy...er...crazier than you already knew him to be.

"Sadie, guys will say anything to make you look bad. Especially if they were messin' around with some other girl, it's how they get them! At least...yeah, I think that's how it works. If I learned anything from watching soap operas with my mom..."

"Lars, look at me! I look like hell!" You sit on your legs now, throwing your arms out in an intense display of ugliness. Lars only laughs loudly at this, leaning in to fix a button you apparently forgot to button when you put these old things on days ago. You slap his hand away and all he can do is shrug,

"You look like you just woke up. Now come on, get dressed, we're going dirt biking today." He gets back up, tugging at his shorts to cover his legs again and reaching for his shoes. You don't know why, but you listen, getting out of bed to finally leave your house.

That whole bike ride, you kept revising a list in your head for the man you needed in your life. You need a man who would:

cherished you, love you unconditionally, risk his life to save you, and for some odd reason, kiss you in the rain.

Actually, that last part you didn't really need, but if you could get that, that would be great.

**A/N: Lars is seen cherishing and loving Sadie unconditionally. She set his face on fire and he still helped her clean the mess up and is still seen to be very good friends with her. In Horror Club, the lighthouse too Sadie and held on to her in the weird heart thingy and even though he was scared, Lars still went in to the basement to look for her. **

**He never necessarily risked his life to save her, however, he does show to have a protective side over her and hey, it took him nearly getting sacrificed in Horror Club for her to get out of the wall.**

**_And lastly, he didn't kiss her in the rain, but it did start raining AFTER the kiss, so close enough!_**


	19. Playing Two

Today was just supposed to be a normal day, really, it was. It had snowed three inches yesterday and you intended to stay in doors on your day off, watching a MythBusters marathon, granted the snow didn't knock out your connection. You were sitting under your favorite blanket (the one with pictures of bunnies on it) with your favorite striped fuzzy socks on and your Betty Boop pajamas, searching for the remote. Your other hand reaches for the hot chocolate beside you, albeit missing the mug itself several times in the process. Ah, yes, you were in a very good mood. However, your happy mood would not last long as sudden shouts of distress carry through the from the outside to your bedroom, causing your back to tense and your body to push forward.

"SADIE, HELP!"

"SAVE US!" it takes you less than a second to recognize the first voice to be Lars, however, the second voice catches you by surprises. You leap out of bed, heading straight for your window in an attempt to gain a view of the the cause of the shouts. Outside, Lars, and even more to your surprise, your cousin, Leek, are running for what appears to be their lives, while Steven, Connie, and PeeDee chase them down, a rain of snowballs soaring through the air between the two groups. Onion has tagged along on top Lars' shoulders, holding up a very victorious looking Ranger Guy as they run from battle.

Shaking your head at the display before you, you fling open your bedroom window, calling down to the fleeing 'men', "Hey! What are you doing?" You dust the snow from the window pane, resting your forearms upon the cold panel.

"JUST OPEN THE DOOR!" Lars screams breathlessly in response , nearly slipping on a patch of ice on your walk way during their escape from the bombardment of snow. Shrugging your shoulders in a lackluster manner, you close the window again, apply the lock, and turn to shuffle down the short flight of stairs between your room and the living room, opening the front door, only to almost be trampled by the sudden flood of boys, following by a flurry of snow.

"Hey! No running in the house!" Your mom calls from the kitchen, taking the already planned words from your still mouth, "And don't come in here until you've shaken off all that snow!"

"But auntie, we're under attack!" Leek readjusts his blue plastic glasses on the bridge of his nose, a small portion of a snowball stuck between the glass and his cheek.

"I don't care if we're in full blown snow war, no coming in here until all that snow is shaken off." Your mother leans out of the kitchen, pointing a very accusing wooden spoon at Leek, before returning to whatever food it was she had been making. You are about to open the door in amusement, but the thud of snowballs on the front door prompts you not to follow up on that action and instead usher the boys into the living room, figuring that the carpet would catch most of the rapidly melting snow. All three boys shiver in their spots, Onion even placed Ranger Guy in Lars' hair in an attempt to warm him.

"Now, why are you here?" You point to Leek, deciding that in order to get to the bottom of these shenanigans, you would first need to find out why they were even here in the first place, "And what's going on?" You point to Lars. Both boys immediately shrink back, attempting to get away from the path of your finger, scrambling for an answer.

"Mom has a meeting today." Leek blurts his answer out quickly, even holding his arms up in defense. His left arm shoots out at an angle, pointing accusingly at Lars, "And its all his fault!"

"No it isn't!" Lars smacks the boy's hand away, keeping one hand gripped around Onion's small ankle to keep him from falling from his shoulders. Onion, suddenly interested in the conversation rather than the care of Ranger Guy, gives you a thumbs up, though you aren't entirely sure who it was he was agreeing with.

"You got Onion involved?" You place your hands on the curves of your hips, visibly frustrated in this new bit of information. Both Leek and Lars seems to almost shrink more than they had done when you first began to question them, neither displaying any desire to take responsibility for Onion's involvement in the snowball fight.

Figuring that the continued silence would get you no where, you opt for a different question, "Does Sour Cream know he's gone?" however, a period of continued complete silence confirms your theory, "He asked you to watch him, didn't he?"

The lack of an answer provides you with a clear picture now.

Looks like you wouldn't be watching that marathon like you wanted.

With the boys currently cowering in your home for who knows how long, you were more than likely going to be the one to keep them out of trouble.

"Hey, Lars...what if we got a hose and-" Leek has since shed his jacket, tossing it on to the carpet as he began to devise his next battle plan, smirks growing on the other two males' faces as their eyes light up with the uppermost interest.

Well, today was going to be a long day.

* * *

"Now, look, I set up the game cube, just play something for awhile." You were pretty much done with the boys' antics at this point and would have much preferred that they left you alone for the day, but with the pummel of snowballs against the siding of your home, you knew that they would not be leaving the safety of your home anytime soon.

"Which game did you put in?" Leek snatches up a controller, waiting for the screen to finally load.

"Army of War."

"Ah, Sadie, that's lame." Lars picks up another controller, kicking his legs up on the coffee table, despite knowing how much the mere act of any sort of feet on tables bothered you to know end. You would have cast a scowl in the boy's direction, but you were already pretty fed up with what the day had thrown at you already. You're about to turn on your heels to exit the room, figuring the boys will be distracted soon enough, allowing you to return to your marathon. However, you hardly reach the stairs when a sudden shout of your name causes your shoulders to tense in frustation.

"Yo, Sadie, where ya goin'?" Lars calls over to the stairs, leaning over the side of the couch to make eye contact with you.

"I'm going up stairs to watch Mythbusters. Don't bother me." You scowl back at the male, though his sudden change in expression makes you feel slightly bad for it.

"Well...we got an extra controller...if ya wanted to join. I could use a player two." Lars hand finds the back of his neck, but rather or not it was out of embarressment or left over snow, you aren't sure. You think over your options before finally sighing. Maybe spending time outside of your room would be a better way to pass the time...maybe.

You turn back to the stairs, taking them two at a time. Lars has set down the controller, preparing to start the game.

"Wait a second!" You call back down the stairs, having grabbed your blanket off your bed and rushing back down, "I'm playing, too!"


End file.
